


Be Wherever You Are

by BubuBORG



Series: Team Medi:  Sons of Durin [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies), TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: All-Knowing Balin, Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fíli and Kíli Are Little Shits, Gen, Home Invasion, Is it Self-Insert if it's your descendants?, LP slur, Orc Discourse, Other, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Starfleet Academy, Starship Enterprise (Star Trek), Team Medi, The Legend of Criss Damon, multifandom - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-11-09 03:18:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11095770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubuBORG/pseuds/BubuBORG
Summary: Fili and Kili are revived on Earth, where they are cared for at Starfleet Medical by Dr. Leonard McCoy.Everything goes about as well as expected.





	1. I'm Alive

**Author's Note:**

> As I noted in the Sons of Durin primer, this story takes place in 2280, five years prior to Star Trek II the Wrath of Khan
> 
> It also takes place roughly in Third Age 2941 by Middle-earth's reckoning.

“They want to bury him.”

 

The Elvenking looked upon his captain, who seemed adrift on waves on the sea. The young dwarf lay still and cold in her arms.  That was the Elves way; to always think of things in nautical terms.  It was their way of knowing that their destiny would always end in returning to their source over the ocean before the World’s End.

“Yes,” Thranduil said, simply.  He looked upon Tauriel, with tears in her eyes.  No elf should have tears down their cheeks in grief, he thought, but then again, it seemed like centuries since he’d allowed one to stain his own.  

“If this is love, I do not want it,” Tauriel proclaimed, then pleaded.  “Take it from me, _please_.”

Thranduil didn’t know what to say.

“Why does it hurt so much?” she asked, sobbing.  

“Because,” her King answered, in admission of being wrong, in apology, “It was _real_.”

 

 

 

Kíli’s body was eventually taken from Tauriel and placed next to his brother Fíli’s body, slain on the same day.  

Gandalf the Grey looked upon them, then back to Balin, son of Fundin, who wrung his hands together.

“It was going to be so regardless, so why does this change anything?” He demanded of Gandalf.  “I know they have the means to bring them back with their medicine!  This need not be their end!”

“What of their uncle?” Gandalf said, quietly.  Across the makeshift morgue in Dale the body of Thorin Oakenshield lay in state, with the little figure of the hobbit he’d brought along for this debacle looking bereft and sobbing.

“It won’t work,” Balin sighed.  “For a number of reasons.  Too much damage.”

Gandalf looked at him.  “Your request has a cost.”

Balin raised his heavy eyebrows and shrugged, as if to say he could afford it.

“Though Kíli and Fíli may yet live, they will have to be taken beyond this sphere.”

Balin quickly, perhaps too quickly, answered: “Yes!  Yes, please, just don’t let them perish!”

Gandalf nodded, and brought out two devices out of a pouch and placed them on Fíli and Kíli’s foreheads, and they were surrounded by a serene green glow.

“There,” Gandalf had said, “They are now in stasis, and they will go straight to Starfleet Medical to be revived.  The price, Balin, the price.  You have no idea.”

 

“What is this?” 

 

Gandalf and Balin turned to see Tauriel standing before them. She went straight to Kíli’s still body and beheld the stasis device.

“He’s gone…he’s been removed,” She said, putting her hands in front of her.

“Lady,” Gandalf said, in soothing tones.  “Where he goes, you may not follow for a time.”

“What care I for time?” Tauriel snapped.  “The grace that was given the Elves give me all manner of time.  What do you plan to do?”

“He goes to the heart of the United Federation of Planets,” He told her.  “To the planet that circles the star Nessa.”

“How ironic,” She said, scoffing, “That it is he in the end who walks in another world.”

 

 

Fíli and Kíli were placed aboard the _USS Hanson_ , an Oberth-class science vessel that Gandalf employed for his own uses and missions from time to time.  It was commanded by a broad-shouldered Cainian, Captain Rott Ag’ta, who didn’t mind ferrying the El-Aurian to Arda illicitly.  His misadventures in his youth with Kaitlin and Maurice on the _USS Medea_ stemmed from his knowing the Admiral, and he wouldn’t give those memories up for all the galaxy.  

“Thank you again, Captain Ag’ta,” Gandalf’s voice came over the comm.  “This is precious cargo, and please get it to Starfleet Medical, post haste.”

“Of course.  And then there’s the matter of when we’ll be returning to take you back to Starfleet Headquarters.”

“Oh, don’t give that too much concern.  You—“

“I’ll know when you want to send for me.” Ag’ta finished with a chuckle.  So the usual arrangement?”

“Quite so,” Gandalf agreed.  “Gandalf out.”

The audio cut off with a puff of static.  Ag’ta looked at the main viewer, the planet before them, and beyond that, the sea of stars.  “All right.  Helmsman, set course for Earth, warp factor 8.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” the helmsman replied.  

 

 

_Medical Log, Stardate 8079.1, Dr. Leonard McCoy recording.  Subjects originate from planet Anor II.  Anatomically are within the 98th percentile of standard humanoid norms.  As such will recommend standard resuscitation procedures after tissue damage has been repaired and brain function has been confirmed.  All in all recovery seems all but assured.  Psychologically, however, I have reservations.  Sections of Anor II, including the region subjects originate, are at a Stage III Preindustrial level of technology and the culture shock may inflict more damage than the  mortal wounds that brought them here to begin with.  However, despite my protests, this is apparently beyond my pay grade._

_Good luck, fellas._

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Doctor!”

 

 _Goddammit, I’m getting too old for this_ , McCoy cursed inwardly as he turned the corner to enter the room.  What he saw was as bad and as chaotic as it got.  Two nurses held their hands out as one of the patients swung at them erratically, still slightly imbalanced from the drugs in his system.  They were attempting to use placating tones but the charged atmosphere led to just more noise.  He stood on his hospital bed, hunched over, breathing heavily. He was short in stature, but broad across the shoulders.   The hospital gown he was clothed in hung on him; he’d lost a bit of bulk in the process of his recovery.  His dirty blond hair fell all around him, sweaty, stringy, and cowlicked something awful, McCoy thought. The ornaments that he’d had in his hair and beard had been removed prior to his treatment; it now hung unbraided and rather messily around his face.

 The other patient sat in the corner, looking out behind the arms that wrapped around his legs, rocking slightly, keening quietly.  His face was far from clean-shaven, but not quite bearded either.  His brown hair had some light traces about it, but it, like his brother, was none the worse for wear.  Both brothers shared similar features, probably common to their species, the prominent nose, the goat-like eyes, the stocky physique.  Though the blond one stood at least a head shorter than himself, McCoy was certain he could lay him out in a fight.

 _God_ , he thought.  _Where was a Vulcan neck pinch when you needed one?_

“Come on, hang back,” He barked at the nurses, then back at the attacking patient.  “Come on, everybody sit down, it’s all right.”  He held his own hands up to show he was unarmed.  “I’m a doctor, it’s all right.  Doctor?  Healer?” 

The patient’s eyes squinted and shook his head, sighing something in his native language.  It would take a while for the Universal Translator to start building a vocabulary for them, and McCoy figured if he could keep him talking, it would further it along.

“Nurse, go and get me some drinking water,” he said to either of the nurses, and the shorter one left.  

The patient began speaking again, and started gesturing at McCoy.  He could tell he was calming down because his tone became a bit more petulant and he looked down his considerable nose at the doctor.  

“Now let’s try to at least be civil,” McCoy replied.  “I’m Dr. Leonard McCoy, and you are…?”

He sighed again, and pointed at McCoy.  “Doctor…Leonard…McCoy,” He repeated.  

“Yes.  Good,” McCoy replied, nodding.  

“Fíli Viliul,” the patient said, pointing at himself.  “Good?”

“Very good,” McCoy answered.  “Fíli, I’ve been supervising your recovery since you arrived here.”

“Where am I?” Fíli asked. 

  _Lord, the Translator took over fast once it picked up steam_ , McCoy thought. “You’re in a hospital,” he answered.  “You were…you were injured, and the Admiral had you sent here, on Earth.  Do you understand?”

Fíli deflated.  “Earth.”

“ _Do_ you understand?” McCoy asked again.  Now he was the confused one.

“Admiral,” Fíli again growled.  “Do you mean the Wizard?  Tharkûn?”

“No, I mean the Admiral.  Usually goes by the name Gandalf,” McCoy replied.

“Yes, he has that name as well.  We seem to be speaking better now,” Fíli remarked.

“It’s a translating device,” McCoy explained.  “As you’ve been speaking, it’s been analyzing your language and working to help me understand you and vice versa.”

“Vice…versa?” Fíli repeated, shaking his head.

“Well, it’s not perfect,” McCoy quipped.

Fíli realized he was still standing on the hospital bed, and sat back down.  “You helped me?”

“Well you and your…your brother?”

Fíli looked at where McCoy gestured, and found the still shaking, keening figure on the ground.  “Kee!” he exclaimed.  he jumped off the bed and rushed to him, putting his arms around him.    

“We weren’t _injured_ ,” Fíli said, quietly, as Kee the other patient began to grasp for him.  “No…I…I was _dead_.”

“Fee,” Kee whispered.  “What is this?”

“Everything’s all right, Kíli” Fíli said.  “It’s all right, this Man’s a Healer, he’s taken care of us.”

“I was dead, Fíli!” Kíli sobbed.  “And it was all darkness!  And then…” he once again buried his head in his arms and began to keen.

“This is _not_ ‘all right’, Doctor,” Fíli said to McCoy.  

McCoy once again put his hands up.  “If you’ll let me, I’ll administer a tranquilizer.  You’ll feel more relaxed.”

Fíli nodded and stepped away as McCoy placed a device by Kíli’s wrist.  He heard a hissing noise and Kíli sighed as his arms lost their tension.  By this time, the nurse had returned with water.

McCoy turned to Fíli.  “I’m going to give you a lower dose, but this should give you a moment to clear your head.”  

Fíli nodded and the doctor administered the drug to him as well.  

“I never should have left him,” he said, going back to the hospital bed.  “We never should have separated.”

“I’m going to have the nurses leave the pitcher of water here,” McCoy told Fíli.  “And leave you two alone for awhile.  Okay?”

“Oh…kay.” Fíli replied.  While calmer, the fear and uncertainty never left his face.  

 

 

 

“Goddammit,” McCoy cursed as he walked down the corridor.  “What the hell has that El-Aurian cuckoo bird done to those fellas?” 

“How was your first contact?” Dr. Chapel asked as he walked toward the conference lounge.  

“Chaotic,” McCoy grumbled.  “They were violently killed and woke up alive.  Light-years from the field of battle, and me with no kind of answers for them.”

“Well, I mean, they can probably piece together what led to them getting killed,” Christine Chapel surmised.  “With our help.”

“He left instructions, but goddamn, Chris, he should have been here to reassure them.  They don’t know me from Adam.”

“I think the worst is past them,” Chapel replied.  “I think they’ll be all right.”

 

 

 

Now that his heart wasn’t pounding in his ears, Fíli had time to think and to look around him.  the room was white, the beds were white, though shaped strangely, and there seemed to be equipment and devices that looked like things that only Balin would talk about.  

He and Kíli were not on Arda anymore.

The language the doctor and nurses were speaking seemed like Westron, but…not.  Well, up until the point when McCoy’s words began to be translated into Khuzdul.  

Balin.

Balin was the one who’d told him and Kíli about Earth and the Star Fleet.  About the time that he was taken away from Arda.

He kept saying that the Princes getting a Star Fleet education would be beneficial to the Line of Durin.  

Fíli’s eyes narrowed.  Well, it looked like he got his way, death be damned.

 

He turned back to Kíli.  He was back on the hospital bed, but lay with his back to him, his knees pulled up.  

“Kee,” he called to him.

Kíli made a vague sound, but didn’t move.

“Kíli.”  Fíli sighed.  

“I can’t feel anything,” Kíli finally said, his voice muffled.

Fíli frowned.  

“Like…I’m watching this from the outside…and I’m detached.  I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel about this.”

Fíli looked at his stocking feet.  He didn’t have a single answer.

“Please, Fee.  Tell me what I’m supposed to feel.”  He turned around, and extended an arm toward Fíli.  His eyes looked dazed, faraway.  “Help me.”

He couldn’t look at his brother.  His gaze stayed on the floor.  The strangely carpeted, otherworldly floor.  “I don’t know.”

 

***

 

A day passed.  Fíli allowed McCoy to continue to monitor both Kíli and himself.  He commented that they’d lost weight, which prompted Fíli to begin to ask how long their hospital stay would be.

“I mean, I’d at least like to see what kind of beer you lot like to brew,” he quipped.

“I don’t know from beer, personally,” McCoy remarked, still putting his strange, warbling instrument to Kíli, seemingly absorbed in its use.  “I’m a bourbon man myself.  Have you ever heard of a mint julep?” 

“No.”

“Well, how about we agree that when you’re out and about, we have ourselves some mint juleps.  Expand your horizons?”

And like that, Dr. McCoy had side-stepped Fíli’s question with liquor.  

“You know we’re going to need to know everything you can tell us sooner rather than later, Doctor.” Fíli said.

“I know, I know,” McCoy replied.  “I’d feel better if Gandalf was here telling you.”

“Gandalf doesn’t tell the complete truth under the best days,” Fíli sighed.  “It is the way of his kind.”

“That we can agree,” Kíli piped up.

“The most basic questions, Dr. McCoy,” Fíli pressed.

McCoy put his scanner down.  “All right.”

“We are on the world called Earth,” Fíli began.

McCoy nodded.  “Yes.”

“What is the area of this world we’re in called?  What city are we in?”

“North America,” McCoy answered.  “City of San Francisco.”

“All right,” Fíli said, nodding.  “See, we’re getting somewhere.”

“I…think I’ve heard of San Francisco,” Kíli said.  “Balin—He’s one of our uncles—talked about his visit to San Francisco, in his youth.  He talked about the bridge, remember Fee?  The Gilded Gate?”

“Actually, it’s called the Golden Gate,” McCoy corrected.  “But it’s close.”

“Can we see it from here?” Kíli asked.  

“I’m afraid not,” McCoy said, even as Kíli went to the window.  After a moment of fiddling, he managed to open the blinds.

His jaw dropped.

Buildings, unspeakably tall, unspeakably constructed, grew up from the ground and reached up into the sky.  It was nothing that he’d ever seen, from neither Men nor Elves in Middle-earth.

“I’m—“ Kíli choked a bit.  “Gonna need some more water.”

Fíli moved to the window, standing behind Kíli.  As he looked out, he began gulping down Kíli’s glass of water.

 

 

The next day, Fíli and Kíli were moved to a suite on the Starfleet Medical campus.  From there, they began to settle in a bit more.  Clothes were provided to them (As ever, Kíli gravitated toward blues, Fíli warmer tones.  He also took a leather jacket) And Dr. McCoy returned to visit.

“See, you gotta make sure you don’t bruise the mint leaves,” he told Fíli as he set up the juleps in short tumblers. He gave one to each brother and held up his glass.  “Cheers.”

They mumbled their toast and sipped the drink.  Kíli made a face. 

“What’s wrong?” McCoy asked, smiling.  “Too much bourbon?”

Kíli put his drink down.  “Too sweet,” he spluttered.

Fíli upended his glass and put it down, the crushed ice tinkling. “We’re not used to such carefully constructed drink.  It’s usually ale.  Wine sometimes.”

“Hard cider,” Kíli added with a smirk.  He was rewarded with a glare from Fíli. 

“Aw, hell, why didn’t you say so?” McCoy said, grinning.  “I get a little something every now and again from a Barolian freighter that runs across the Neutral Zone.  For next time.”

“First,” Fíli said.  “More questions.”

“Go for it,” McCoy said, his palms outward.

“How long…” Fíli began looking at Kíli, who seemed calm, though a bit anxious.  “How long were we dead before we were revived?”

That made McCoy stop and think.  “Well, the _Hanson_ delivered your bodies in stasis roughly eight weeks ago.  We kept you in stasis as we began the process of putting the two of you back together.  Kíli’s injuries were more intense, but less extensive.  Yours were indicative of the trauma of a high fall, as well as the mortal injury. So while we oxygenated your brains, knit your bones, and healed the damage to your internal organs, you were away from the world maybe two months.”

“Two months, and the length of the journey from Arda to here…”

“That would add another month,” McCoy surmised, shrugging.

“We were spared from death,” Fíli said, quietly.  “Who decided that we were to live, when so many died?”

“And who else died?” Kíli added.

“That, I can’t answer.  That, you’re gonna have to get Gandalf to answer,” McCoy replied.  “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, that’s fine,” Fíli sighed.  

“I have a question,” Kíli spoke up.  “All this around us is so miraculous—even our underground cities seem so drab in comparison.  Earth is so advanced in its…it’s technology?  Should we even _be_ here?”

“The real answer?” McCoy said.  “Is, technically, no.”

“So someone broke the rules to send us here to be resurrected,” Fíli said.

“Yes.”

 

At that moment, Dr. Chapel entered the suite.  “Time for vitals and meds,” she announced.  “Leonard,” she added in greeting to her colleague.

Kíli brightened.  “Christine,” he greeted Chapel happily.  Fíli smiled as well.  Chapel’s manner was a bright spot to their stay so far.  

“Mint juleps, I see,” she drawled.  “It’s a good thing I’m on duty, or I’d feel put out.”  With that out of the way, she took her tricorder out and began her scans of the dwarves.  “You know, here on Earth, the term ‘Dwarf’ could be a bit pejorative. What are you called amongst yourselves?” 

“Khazad,” Fíli answered.  “Though Dwarrow will do as well, I suppose.” 

“Khazad it is, then,” Chapel said with a nod.  “Well, that’s all for now.”

McCoy cocked his head as she was leaving, before calling out, “Christine?”

 

She turned at the door.  “Yes?”

McCoy looked at Fíli and Kíli, then back to Chapel.  “These two aren’t restricted to stay on campus, are they?”

 

The music was slow and boring to Fíli’s ears, as they entered the bar.  Kíli kept looking around, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape. 

“ _This_ is a tavern?” Fíli asked.  The people seemed to simply mill around the place, holding their drinks and talking in groups of two or three.  The last time Fíli was in a really good tavern, at least two tables got knocked over, and the din of the place was deafening.  

“Nah,” McCoy replied.  “Just a little place that was popular with the interns I ran with when I came from Ole Miss to Starfleet Medical.”

And sure enough, there were a number of Starfleet officers in their maroon jackets.

“That’s the Star Fleet uniform?” Fíli asked.  

“Uh-huh,” McCoy murmured, still trying to navigate to the bar.

“I rather like it,” Fíli remarked.

“Well, it doesn’t fit everyone,” McCoy replied.  

 

They hadn’t noticed Kíli had wandered off.

 

Kíli walked up to two people which he assumed were humans, playing some sort of game.  He wasn’t sure what it was that was being created in three dimensions, but the red one was winning over the blue one.  He caught the attention of one of the players, in a Starfleet enlisted jumpsuit, as he looked over the game device, trying to stay out of the way.  His long brown hair, as yet still unbraided, slumped over his shoulders as he seemed engrossed in his inspection.

“Did you want to play next, buddy?” the crewman asked.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Kíli murmured.  “How does it make those things appear in mid-air?”

“Hmm.  Just mirrors and lasers, I think,” the crewman replied with a shrug.  “It’s a vintage arcade game, but It’s fun to play all the same.”

“I have this strange need to pull it apart to see how it works,” Kíli said.  

“Are you an engineer?” the other player, a female, asked.

“Erm, I’m not sure,” Kíli replied, standing back up.  

“Because all the engineers I know talk about tearing things apart to see how they work.”

“Huh.”  Kíli’s mind flashed for a moment to all the times as a child in Ered Luin when he managed to disassemble a timepiece or some other mechanical device, just to see if he could put the gears back.  He never quite got the chance before someone caught him and more likely than not tanned his hide.

“Food for thought.  Are you joining up?” the crewman asked.

“Joining up for what?” Kíli asked.

He pointed at the delta shield on his chest.  “I mean, I don’t wanna be presumptuous, but this is kind of a Fleet bar.”

“I’m with that fellow and my brother…” Kíli’s voice trailed off as he tried to pick out Fíli and McCoy in the crowd.  Fortunately, Fíli’s hair was pretty conspicuous amongst all the short haircuts.  “There.”

The crewman’s eyes bugged a bit.  “Holy shit!  That’s Dr. McCoy from the _Enterprise_!”

“Should that mean something to me?” Kíli asked, to the amazement to both of them.

“You’re not from around here, I’m guessing?” the woman asked.

Kíli shook his head.  “Not in the slightest.”

“Listen,” the crewman said.  “If you’re with him, you’re with a legend, whether you know it or not.  _Enterprise’s_ five-year mission is like the stuff of high epic legend at the Academy.  There’s a whole course where they break down the highlights—you know, there’s a popular theory that says that Kirk made up half of his log entries, but I don’t buy it.  I _believe_.”

Kíli glanced back at McCoy and his brother, now at the bar.  “I don’t think I caught your name, sir,” he said to the crewman.

“Crewman Eldon Sinclair,” he replied with a little salute.  “At your service.”

Without thinking, Kíli bowed and replied, “And I at yours and your family’s.” As the reply left his mouth, he suddenly felt uneasy.  He’d gotten so used to this strange world for a time, that he’d forgotten his old world.  “E-excuse, me, I need to get back…”

Eldon frowned.  “Sure.”

 

Fíli was already throwing back the ale that McCoy had ordered for him when Fíli rejoined them.  

“Ah,” Fíli said.  “Do you want one?  The good doctor says they brew their own pale ale here.”

“N-no thank you,” Kíli said.  

Fíli frowned.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Kíli said.  “I’m just starting to feel out of sorts.”

“Do you want to return to the suite?” McCoy asked.

Kíli turned a guilty face toward Fíli.  “I don’t want to ruin—“

“No, nonsense,” Fíli said.  He put the flagon down.  “We’ll go.”

 

 

As the three hit the street, Eldon followed.  “Excuse me!” He called after them.  

“Can I help you, Crewman?” McCoy asked.

“I just—I hate to be the one to cut your evening short, sir,” Eldon said respectfully to McCoy, looking at Kíli.  “I didn’t realize how new to Earth your friends were.”

“We’re under the good Doctor’s care for now,” Fíli explained.  “My brother is recovering from a shock to his system.”

Kíli looked up at Sinclair, slightly shamefaced.  

“It was good of you to be concerned though, lad,” Fíli continued.  “Thank you.”

“Well—see you around, I guess,” Eldon said before turning back to the bar.

 

The three walked back to the transit line. Kíli glared at Fíli.  “You didn’t have to do that!” he protested.

“I’m still your older brother,” Fíli replied.  “Even here.”

“He thinks I’m sickly, or unwell!” Kíli exclaimed. 

“Can we can it until we get you back?” McCoy grumbled.

“Fine,” Kíli sulked.

“Fine,” Fíli sighed.

 

McCoy unceremoniously left the two back at their suite, most likely unwilling to referee a spat between siblings.

 

 

Kíli dumped himself on the sofa of the main room.  Fíli paced.

 

“What are we going to do?” Kíli asked.  “Is this our lives?  Permanent guests of Star Fleet Medical?”

“No,” Fíli sighed.  “No, they won’t keep us here indefinitely.  They have everything they need to study us.  They’re waiting.  Waiting for the wizard to come to reclaim us.”

“And do what?” Kíli asked.  “Take us back?  Back to…”

“Back to our _lives_ , Kee,” Fíli said, his glare sharp.  “You said it yourself, we aren’t supposed to be here!”

“Our lives were over!” Kíli exclaimed.  “We died.  What does that mean?  What did our deaths stand for if it could be overturned like that?”

“Oh!” Fíli wheeled around the sofa, his eyes never leaving Kíli.  “I see.  Is that all it takes for you to abandon your home?  A few tall buildings?  A novel game in a snooze of a Terran bar?”

“That’s not—“ Kíli attempted to jump in.  Fíli was having none of it.

“You get seduced by something new and exciting, and all of a sudden you’re willing to cut your home loose,” Fíli roared.  “And everything and everyone you cared about…gone.  Left by the wayside!”

“Oh, now _I_ see,” Kíli said, his voice a growl, standing up, wheeling around to face Fíli.  This isn’t about Earth or San Francisco.  This is about your little brother not needing you to take care of him anymore!  This is about _her_!”

“The she-elf you gave your stone to?  Another shiny object you were willing to throw your heritage away for?”

“Well, why not?” Kíli cried.  “It’s not like _I_ was going to be King under the Mountain!”

Fíli’s face went blank.

“I’m already dead, Fee!” Kíli exclaimed.  “And here we are, on Earth.  Where anything is possible.  For you and me.  Now you tell me what you want to hold on to.”

“I’m holding on to a hope that back home the Company is still alive and waiting for us to return,” Fíli replied.  “We owe them that.”

“Dead is dead!” Kíli said, once more.  “We have nothing more to prove!  All debts repaid in full, per the ever-loving contract!”

 

Fíli held up his hands.  His gaze fell to the floor.  “We’re getting nowhere.  And I don’t want to fight with you.  I know this is hard for you.  It’s been hard on me too.  And it looks like we’re stuck here for the time being.  Until Gandalf gets around to returning to Earth.  Until we can find passage back to Arda.”

“So until then, let’s…be on Earth, for now,” Kíli suggested.  “Let’s see the sights, let’s enjoy our stay, soothe our hearts.  We’re not done healing.”

Fíli sat down on the couch.  “Balin did say this was a beautiful world.”

“I wanna cross that bridge,” Kíli said, excitedly grasping the back of the couch.

“When we get to it,” Fíli replied.

Kíli sighed.  “You know what I meant,” he groaned.

 

Fíli turned and looked right up at Kíli.    “And vice versa.”


	2. Rocket's Red Glare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun times are followed by sadness. Grown-up talk is delayed until after summer.

 

<https://bububorg.tumblr.com/post/162605581146/sketches-of-fili-and-kili-federation-day-outfits>

Kíli was wearing a pair of sunglasses.

It was approximately a month since he and Fíli were revived and since then they had successfully petitioned for Federation citizenship.  McCoy and Dr. Chapel had helped them through the process. 

There were a few letters from a handful of anthropologists looking to study Khazad culture by proxy, but Fíli didn’t take their inquiries too seriously.  

But back to the sunglasses.  They were aviators with silvered lenses, but with bright orange frames.  Fíli, across from him, didn’t wear sunglasses but covered his head in a  blue fabric hat with a firm bill in the front.

 

“You nearly didn’t catch it that time!” Kíli called to his brother, grinning.

 

The two were in Mojave, California, soaking up the sun and enjoying the extensive parkland outside the city.  It had been arid land in generations past, but that had changed once the Terrans had used their technology to cultivate even the harshest environments.  It raised Fíli’s curiosity to no end.  

The game, Fíli thought, was similar to any kind of children’s game a dwarrow-lad or lass would pick up in an instant.  But the novelty was the simple plastic disk that Fíli and Kíli were tossing to each other, how it hung in the air.  Kíli was the one that began to study how it worked, how it was about varying levels of air pressure above and below the disk, how it softly landed—or, rather, how it _would_ softly land, if Fíli wasn’t so adept at catching it in midair.

The two were wearing loosely fitting clothes, what McCoy had called T-shirts, and trousers that ended about mid-calf on the shorter-statured Khazad.   

The two had yet to re-braid their hair.  Kíli had taken to tying his hair in a topknot, to keep it out of his eyes as he began to read anything he could get translated into Khuzdul or Westron.  The Universal Translator, the two had found, was just as proficient at the printed word as it was the spoken word.  The problem, of course, was the printed page. 

“Well, I suppose we’re just going to have to learn English,” Kíli said with a shrug.  

“With any luck, we’ll be able to take some volumes back with us…when we get back,” Fíli had said.  He still held onto the endgame of returning to Arda, though as the weeks went on, he amended the plan to return with more and more memorabilia and paraphernalia from Earth.  

Now he was considering a full-blown education.

“Hey, Kee!” the now-familiar voice of Eldon Sinclair called out.  “Come on, these dogs are gonna get cold!”

Eldon was indispensable to the two of them in the intervening days, answering any and all questions about Earth that he could.  More likely than not, however, he deferred to means to research rather than direct answers.  

It was Eldon that had invited them to Mojave for a cookout, in celebration of Federation Day.  

So, as Fíli, Kíli, Eldon and his fiancee, Tamryn sat at the picnic table and started putting condiments on the hot dog buns, Eldon had them hold their longnecks out in a toast. 

“To the United Federation of Planets, one hundred nineteen years old today,” Eldon began.  “The best collective group of planets in the quadrant!”

“Hear, hear!” they all cried in response, and clinked their bottles together.  

Tamryn had a curvy figure, and wore her chestnut-colored hair in a chin-length style.  She wore a comfortable, full-length jersey dress. It was she who’d gotten the brothers the casual clothes—her younger brother Gatsby was fond of vintage clothes and had some in their unique size.

However, she didn’t have an answer when Kíli asked what “Save Ferris” meant.

“So,” Eldon started again.  “Are you gonna enlist in the fall?”

Fíli turned to Kíli as he attempted to hide his face in his hot dog.  “I’m not sure what you mean,” he mumbled as he chewed into his bun.

“No, neither do I,” Fíli replied, not taking his eyes off of Kíli.

“It was just some pie-in-the-sky talk the last time we hung out.  Starfleet Academy has hardly any equal for engineering programs.  He seemed interested…”. And Eldon trailed off.  He looked about as guilty as Kíli did.  He knew long term plans were a contentious subject for the Durins.

“I mean, if you’re willing to join Starfleet,” Fíli slowly considered.  “You are pledging your service to a government foreign to your native soil.  For something less politically aligned, there is the Daystrom Institute.”

Kíli did a double-take.  

“The problem with Daystrom is that they require certain prerequisites,” Eldon explained.  “You basically got dropped on Earth with no formal secondary or university education.  The admission process would be a lot more rigorous.  With Starfleet, they’ll get you up to speed with no problem.”

“Kíli is no slouch in the realm of maths,” Fíli said.  And he and I were both taught the classic disciplines of science and reason.  Even astronomy.”

“Renaissance-era astronomy and instruments are a good start, but you still have to basically learn reams of star charts,” Eldon argued.  

Tamryn yawned.  “Here they go again,” she said to Kíli.

“We were just having hot dogs,” Kíli groaned.  “And playing with the flying disk and _whyyyy_ …”

Eldon and Fíli went back and forth on the merits of Starfleet as an educational device, as Kíli piled baked beans on his plate.

“Well, what about you, Fíli?” Tamryn broke in to ask.  “What would you like to do?”

“I would like to return to my people and serve their best interests,” Fíli retorted.  “I had obligations.”

“That’s not really the question,” Tamryn replied.  “What interested you back then?  Outside of your obligations, that is?”

All of my kin sought to better my mind,” Fíli said.  “No one person held my sway.  From Balin’s histories to Dwalin’s martial training to Gloin’s political finesse to Oin’s knowledge of herb-lore and the treatment of wounds—“

“You got medical training?” Eldon spoke up.  

“Oin could soothe and set wounds; his curative ability was…” Fíli put his hand out and shook it, “Wibbly.”

Kíli snorted while he shoveled a spoonful of beans into his mouth and told Eldon, “He kept leeches.”

“If you’re going to return as a head of state, you’d want to study things like history and diplomacy and things like that,” Tamryn suggested.  “But if you’ve got an aptitude for treating the sick, you could turn that into something as well.”

“There’s even room for both, my royal friend,” Eldon added.

“Yeah, Fee, come on,” Kíli egged Fíli on, “Get home and virtually be the one Dwarf to have experience with relations with other planets.  When they finally make first contact, it’ll be _you_ they send for.”

Fíli looked thoughtful for a moment, before grabbing another hot dog and smiling.  “We have an entire summer before making a decision,” he said finally.  “It’s been such a wonderful sunny day…No more grown-up decisions, hmm?”

“Hear, hear!” Kíli cheered.  

 

The sun dipped down, giving the trees and parkland a golden cast.  The four friends played another half-hearted game with the flying disc before getting ready for the fireworks show.  

“Mojave does the best Fed Day fireworks shows,” Eldon explained.  “The town really rallies and the venue is tops.”

Kíli just shrugged and smiled.  Fíli had a troubled look on his face.  

And as the sun set and the stars came out, Kíli lay on the picnic table, his hands behind his head, and he looked at unfamiliar constellations, though the Sickle was pretty much intact.  _What in Mahal’s name is a ‘dipper’ anyway?_ He wondered as he searched for home.

 

He had no idea where to look.  At least not yet.

 

He looked back over to Fíli who was discussing something with Tamryn and trying to act as knowledgable as he could, while she just nodded and smiled at him patronizingly—Tamryn seemed to cut through both Eldon and Fíli’s self-aggrandizement—and Kíli was filled with melancholy.  

 _Fíli would leave this place if he could_ , Kíli thought.  _Leave it tonight, even._

 _Would he leave_ me _behind?_

McCoy suggested that on their next outing they visit a place on the other side of the continent called the Complex, that there were, among other things, horses and ponies to ride over thousands of acres of land.  There were also a large amount of Earth history that was tied to the place, but Kíli would leave that for Fíli to discover.  

The first volley exploded in the sky.  Kíli could hear the other patrons in the park exclaim their delight with the display.  From concealed speakers throughout the park, music began to stream.  Catchy music at that, he thought.  Though the lyrics didn’t make too much sense (He suspected the Translator had problems with music) The melody was bouncy and fun.

The next salvo launched and Kíli looked over at Fíli who suddenly was silent.  He was looking up at the sky, oblivious to Tamryn who whooped her approval.  He wrapped his arms around his knees.  

The light from the fireworks illuminated his face.  Kíli thought he saw tears streaming down his cheeks.

The fireworks show ended in a grand finale, with the sky becoming stuffed with colorful explosions and sparkles.  And then the silence and darkness encroached back onto the park again.  People began to pack up their picnic and cookout gear.  Tamryn rolled up the tablecloth once Kíli got off the table and grabbed a cooler.  Eldon did likewise, employing Fíli who remained quiet for the remainder of the walk back to the tram station.  

The couple said goodnight to the brothers back at their suite, and Kíli began to undress on his way to the bathroom.  Normally Fíli would have protested his flinging his shorts across the main room of the suite but Fíli just looked at his feet.

“I haven’t seen a fireworks show like that since Ered Luin,” he remarked from inside the stall of the sonic shower.  

“Hmm,” Fíli hummed, as he lay on the couch.  

“But I’m bloody tired,” Kíli sighed.  He’d thrown a robe on and pulled his hair back for bed.  

Fíli didn’t look up.

“Fee?” Kíli prompted.  

“I—“  Fíli started to say something, looked at Kíli.  He looked on the verge of tears, which always made Kíli uneasy.  Fíli was the stoic one, the one that had the answers, even if they were the wrong ones.  For him to look so uncertain made Kíli’s stomach drop.  

Whatever Fíli was about to say, he bit it off.  “Never mind,” he mumbled as he took himself to the bathroom.  

“A-all right,” Kíli replied, and took himself to his room.

 

The next week after, it didn’t get any better.

 

Fíli moped for the most part, not helped by the fact that they had nothing but free time.  So while Kíli left the suite and tromped up and down the hills in the Mission District, Fíli stayed in.  

 

So Kíli was away when Dr. McCoy stopped by.

 

“I got a communique from your wizard,” he said, showing Fíli a tablet-like device.  He reconfigured the screen to display the message in Fíli’s Khuzdul language and Cirth runic alphabet.  Fíli was so absorbed in the message that he didn’t notice the grim look on McCoy’s face.

He read the message through.  He put the tablet down and put a hand to his mouth and began to pace.  “No.  No, no no….”

“I’m so sorry, Fíli,” McCoy was saying, but Fíli barely registered.  

“That I was the one who was brought back from death, and he—“ Fíli choked up.  McCoy moved to attempt some form of comforting, but Fíli kept him at bay with a pointing hand.  

“He was the reason for all of it, and he is dead and I am not!” Fíli exclaimed.  He grew more agitated as he paced.  “And Kíli—He wants to get his education here—what will he do when he finds out?”

“Do you need me to set up a session with a counselor?” McCoy offered.  “Help you talk through the grief, and help you make some decisions moving forward?”

Fíli said nothing, but nodded.  “Doctor, your help has even invaluable during our stay.  But I fear no one can help me right now.”

Whatever control Fíli was hanging onto fell away and his face dissolved into sobs as he covered his tear-stained face.  He didn’t notice McCoy take an arm around him and begin to say soothing words as he was walked back to the couch and sat down.  

 

Kíli walked in about an hour later.  By that time both McCoy and Chapel were in the suite with Fíli.  

Kíli got a shiver down his spine the instant they made eye contact.  “What’s happened?”

“Kíli, let’s have a seat,” McCoy began.

Kíli looked at Fíli who was calm, but still looked morose.  He didn’t sit down.  “Tell me what’s happened.”

“A message came through from Gandalf,” McCoy began.

“Who has survived?” Kíli asked.  “And who has perished?”

McCoy began to pass him the tablet, but Kíli swatted it away.  “I don’t want to read that!” he said contentiously.  “Please, Doctor, just tell me.”

McCoy exhaled slowly and said, “Your uncle Thorin.  He wasn't able to be revived.  Your relative Balin took tricorder readings that confirms this.  The blood loss, the trauma—I’m sorry.”

“Balin chose us over Thorin,” Kíli scoffed.  Rage clouded his features.  “He chose the heir over the King!”

“No, Kee,” Fíli said softly.

“What, then?” Kíli asked.

“It was our uncle’s wish,” Fíli said.  “He knew.  All the stories Balin said, and he knew that Gandalf could send him off just as well as us.  He _chose_ not to be revived.”

“Your people are very conscientious about your records,” McCoy spoke up.  “And Gandalf sent along a copy of your people’s version of a wish to not be resuscitated.”  

Kíli finally accepted the tablet and looked over its contents.  “According to this, everyone else in the Company save for ourselves and Uncle survived.”  He exhaled.  “That is a mercy.”

“Even Master Baggins?” Fíli asked.

Kíli nodded.  “He also says that our cousin Dain has taken the throne at Erebor.  They all still believe that we are dead.”

McCoy looked awkward. “Like I told your brother, if you need a counselor to speak with, I can have that arranged.”

Kíli looked up at McCoy and managed a thin smile.  “Thank you Dr. McCoy.  This is very sad news, but finally knowing the outcome of the battle that took our lives is very…very settling.”

“I wish you could have been told sooner,” McCoy grumbled.  

Kíli looked over the message again.  “It says here that Gandalf will in fact be returning to Earth by the end of the year for a holiday called Cha-rist-Mus,” he told them, mangling the name of the holiday.  

“Well, that gives you another five months to enjoy our hospitality before you make your final decisions,” Christine pointed out.  “What did you decide about visiting the Complex?”

“Well, I’m all for it!” Fíli spoke up.  “I mean, why not?”

Kíli looked at Fíli.  He still wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“Nothing better to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to shout-out to my friend Mitch for naming Eldon's character name! :)


	3. It's a Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers take a trip to a historical location, and decide to learn a new language.

It was a trip to a place called South Carolina that took Fíli and Kíli to the Reid Complex.  The transport landed them at a gate, beyond which lay a great deal of land on pale green rolling hills, punctuated by the occasional shade tree.  The sign at the gate looked simple, cast in large painted letters:

 

**Safe Haven**

**To All**

**Follow the Signs**

 

“Good Morning!” a bright female voice greeted them.  She was in her mid-forties,  dressed in the maroon Starfleet officers’ uniform and wore her rich blonde hair up.  Her expression was confident yet friendly.

“I’m Commander Kaitlin Reid, and I’m the Starfleet attache to the Reid Complex.  Now to explain what that means, I’d like to tell you the story of the Complex.  If you’ll get in the cart?”

Fíli, Kíli and Tamryn who elected to accompany them (Eldon had duty) got in the small four-wheeled device and they made their way along a paved path through the grassland.

“Back in the years after the Third World War,” Commander Reid began, “Humanity was in a bad way.  Even after Zefram Cochrane’s warp flight and First Contact, there were lots of suffering and the worst of human behavior.  However, there were bright spots where we came together as a people to help each other through tough times.  The Complex was one of those places.  This land was protected from much of the nuclear damage that surrounded many targeted cities after the war.  As such crops would still grow and farming could sustain a small community.  My ancestor, Adam T. Reid, and his children led a group of refugees here, starting with a handful, and that number grew as they went on.”

“About how long ago was this?” Fíli asked.

“About two hundred thirty years ago,” Kaitlin estimated. “The first migration at any rate.  The word went out, however, and Old Adam, as he would be known in the Complex, sent word to his children in Montana and Louisiana to bring people, food, and medicine, to consolidate a toehold on civilization.”

The cart stopped in front of what looked like the side of a hill.  Dug into the hill was a large hangar door as well as a smaller fortified one.  In contrast to the outer gate’s sign, a more official one hung by the doors:

 

**Historic Reid Complex**

**Ceded to United Earth Govt. 2126.**

**Adam T. Reid II Commanding**

 

“This is the Criss Damon Bunker,” Kaitlin told them.  “This underground area was dug out and fortified as the Complex population grew.  Other small housing areas grew around the bunker, but this was where refugees started their residence in the Complex.”  

“Oh, so they didn’t all live inside?” Kíli asked.

“That’s actually a very common misconception,” Kaitlin chuckled.  “Although it’s true that when the first groups came in, they did take to the bunker for both shelter and protection, once the Complex community grew to an extent that it had its own self-defense force that could defend the outer perimeter of the Complex grounds, that’s when the neighborhoods started going up.  That would be about five years in—2057 or so.”

“How did they know it would be safe to begin expanding beyond the bunker?” Fíli asked.

“They didn’t, at first.  They took it on faith and observation of the land that nuclear fallout was conveniently avoiding the region,” Kaitlin explained.  “Later, when surviving scientists and specialists arrived at the Complex, they were able to confirm that and solidify plans to expand. By this point, groups were arriving almost daily from all over what was once called the United States’ east coast, and even trickles from the west.  That bunker was going to get pretty crowded before long.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, Commander,” Fíli asked again, “You said your ancestor founded the complex.  The sign says that an Adam the Second ceded the grounds to the government.  Has stewardship of this land stayed in your family since?”

Kaitlin cleared her throat.  “Ahem, well, it’s not an official position, but the Reid family has in some capacity remained here to keep an eye on the Complex grounds.  The two towns that have grown out of the settlement, Staghart and Christanville, have been known to have a Reid as a mayor from time to time.  But it’s more of a courtesy agreement between the Earth government, Starfleet, and the Reid family in general.”

“It’s almost like being an heir to a title, isn’t it?” Fíli remarked, smiling wistfully.

Kaitlin smiled at Fíli.  “You could almost say that, yeah.  But, you know, it’s a burden that it’s been a privilege to bear to keep a part of my family history alive.”

Fíli shuffled his feet and said no more.

“Now,” Kaitlin continued, clearing her throat again, “Ahem, We can enter the bunker and you can see how the various aspects of Complex society were organized…”

 

The trio followed Commander Reid through the bunker, taking another cart through labyrinthine passageways, each wing named after another family that was founded in the Complex.  Finally they ended up in an auditorium with a projector screen set up on the stage.

“So,” Fíli spoke up again finally after an hour of touring, “How did it come to be that the Complex gave itself up to the Earth government?”

“This is a tale that is often called the Final Battle of the Third World War,” Kaitlin began.  “It begins with the death of Old Adam, who lived to be almost a hundred years.  The Reid family didn’t witness First Contact except by e-news, which was barely reliable in those days.  So when Lisette and Christian, his heirs, begin to hear rumblings about a new consolidation of government on the continent, they are of course suspicious.  The larger cities have been leveled.  The only major city on the Continent is on the other coast.  They trust _no one_.”

Fíli and Kíli stood transfixed while Tamryn smiled, mildly bored.  After all, this was a history lesson she’s sat through a few times.

“So when the day finally comes, ten years later, to approach the Complex, to virtually attempt to normalize relations with the outside world, it doesn’t end well.  The Joker Militia, as they were known informally, basically had the envoy surrounded from the get-go and when he made his initial offer for the Complex to join the new government, they were run off the property.

“But you see, This is also a landscape where rogue nations in the irradiated deserts are brutal to the survivors, where their militias are controlled with opioid drugs, where kangaroo courts lead to virtual crucifixions in the desert.  This is what the e-news reports to the Complex, and they won’t have anything to do with that.  So Christian and Lisette refuse to cooperate, to remain isolated, to remain free.”

Fíli and Kíli looked at each other. “So they did battle?” Kill asked.

“Not exactly,” Kaitlin explained.  “When the United Earth forces returned to the Complex, they set up a perimeter around the complex.  That’s about 200 kilometers.  The Joker Militia did likewise.  It was a standoff.  A standoff that would last for two weeks.”  

Kaitlin fiddled a bit with her device until a series of photos appeared on the screen.  Uniformed forces in blue aimed rifles at counterparts in purple and green.  Their faces were unreadable.  

“So it remained until they airlifted several representatives of the United Earth movement to speak to the Reids personally.  One of them was Lily Sloane.”

“Who’s—“ Kíli began to ask.

“Shhh,” Tamryn interrupted him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Sloane was an associate of Zefram Cochrane and worked with him during the Warp Drive flight that led to First Contact.  In the decades since, she was a vocal advocate for using technology and human exploration as a means to make the world a better place to live.  So it was that she came to the Complex and she and Lisette Reid LeBeau began to talk about the future.  There’s no record of that conversation, but when they emerged from that conference room, Lisette took the walls down and began the process that merged the resources of the Complex with that of the United Earth government.”

“She was your…” Fíli began to ask.  “Your ancestress?”

Kaitlin shook her head.  “No, my folks came from the Christian Reid side of the family.  Hers was the Reid-LeBeaus, and her family eventually settled back in Louisiana.”

“And yours?”

“Ohio, mostly,” Kaitlin explained.  “Though there’s a great many of us who went out to help settle colonies throughout the Federation.”

Fíli looked up at her face, which still had quite a bit of youth in it despite the settled lines that appeared about her eyes and her smile.  He impulsively took her hand with both of his and, with a look of sincerity, told her, “Thank you so much for sharing your history with us.”

“Well—you’re welcome!” Kaitlin replied, slightly flustered.  “Now no tour is complete without visiting the gift shop, where we sell mugs, souvenir shirts and Criss Damon action figures—“

“Criss Damon?” Fíli asked.

“Action figures?” Kíli asked right after.

“Ahh-ah!” Tamryn exclaimed.  “That would require her to give us a whole other tour, and we gotta get back—“

“We didn’t even get to see their stables,” Kíli grumped.  

“ _That’s_ not on the tour,” Kaitlin muttered.

The two groaned as they made their way toward the gift shop.

“Excuse me, young lady?” Kaitlin called out to Tamryn.

“Hmm?” she replied, turning her head around.

“The gentlemen—what planet did they say they were from?” Kaitlin asked her.

“I think they said it was Anor II,” Tamryn replied with a shrug.  “It’s not a Federation world, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Anor II—Arda?” Kaitlin said to herself.  

“Ma’am?” Tamryn asked.

“Oh, it’s nothing—It’s just that my brother Bradley would be interested in talking to them.  Won’t you pass along my contact information through Starfleet to them so we can continue our conversation?”

Tamryn smiled.  “Of course.” 

 

***

 

“It’s a doll,” Fíli said.  The two were back in their suite and they were examining the other’s gift shop purchases.  In addition to more hats and t-shirts, each picked up a unique article.

“It’s too small to be a doll,” Kíli countered.  He picked up the figure of Criss Damon and examined it, not for the first time.  “It’s like some kind of… articulated statuette.”

“Do they _worship_ these things?” Fíli asked.  

“I don’t _think_ so,” Kíli replied.  He put the figure on the coffee table.  “We should have followed up with questions.  That’s the problem with us being here.  We have to learn their little cultural differences as they arise.”

Fíli chuckled, and held up his souvenir.  

It was a book.

“You realize you don’t know how to read that book,” Kíli pointed out.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to learn,” Fíli replied, smiling.  “I have until their solstice holiday to figure it out.”

“Did Tamryn tell you?” Kíli asked.

“About what?” Fíli replied, flipping through the book.

“Commander Reid—She asked about getting us in correspondence with her brother.   She seemed interested in knowing where we’re from.”

“Oh!  Well,” Fíli said, the beginning of a smirk raising one side of his mustache, “There’s more than enough interest in that to go ‘round.”

“She could tell us more about the history of the Complex” Kíli suggested.  “Don’t deny you were very interested.  I mean…a community grown from the ashes of war and destruction, held together away from the outside.”

“I’ll admit, those are very appealing stories, considering our most recent history.  How Lisette led her…her family and kept them safe until the last was very…inspiring.”

“And how the title of guardian of the Complex stayed with the Reids, from Old Adam to Lisette to her children and so forth down to Kaitlin.  You felt a sort of kinship with that idea, didn’t you?”

“Didn’t _you_?” Fíli countered.

Kíli looked at his feet, smiled slightly and nodded.  “The Final Battle of the Third World War,” he sighed.  “Our two worlds are not unlike.  We should learn to read your book…together.”

 

 

The next day Kíli told Dr. Chapel as much.  The two stayed in the suite, but Dr. Chapel intruded with scans and inoculations much less now.  Aside from the two having very ugly scars running across each of their torsos, the two were declared in excellent health.  However, Christine still came about daily to see how they’re doing, mostly to record any psychological progress the two were making.  Today she was there for coffee.  Kíli didn’t care for tea.

“English?” Chapel repeated after Kíli told her their plans.  “Are you sure you don’t want to simply have the book translated into Khuzdul?”

“There’d have been a time that I’d simply let it be translated,” Fíli chimed in.  “But we’ve been here for a while, and I’m feeling restless.  Learning the language might be good for keeping busy.”

Chapel nodded.  “I agree.  In fact, I have an old friend who might be perfect for teaching you.  I served with her on the _Enterprise_ , and with her Xeno-linguistics background, she would get as much out of learning your language as you would ours.”

Fíli glanced at Kíli who beamed.  “Are you happy?”

“Yes!” he exclaimed.  

“Good,” Chapel concluded.  “I’ll get in contact with her at the Academy and we’ll see if she can fit you into her schedule.  She’s part of the training ship staff with Leonard and them.”

“Oh?” Kíli asked.  “You were telling us about that before.  Your ship…the _Enterprise_ …It’s used to train cadets and trainees right now?”

“Oh yes,” Chapel replied.  “It’s a very elite group that gets to go up on the _Enterprise_ to learn starship operations.  Even Leonard’s hands are full with nursing students and residents who get a taste of running a sickbay and treating patients in space.”

“Oh, I’d love to see it,” Kíli sighed.  

“It’s outside of our purview, you see,” Fíli butted in.  “Other races are more inclined to sail than we.  We are more at home in the earth, not at sea.”

“Well there’s nothing wrong with expanding your outlook, Fíli,” Chapel chided him.  “You might gain some insights of your own.”

 

A day passed, then another, without any word whether or not Chapel’s colleague was willing to teach the dwarves.  Then on the third day, Dr. McCoy arrived with a woman in a Starfleet officer’s uniform.  Unlike Commander Reid, she wore a knee-length skirt and mid-calf boots.  She had a darker complexion than Fíli and Kíli had seen in Terrans so far, and the shimmering makeup she wore about her eyes enhanced her striking looks.  

“Fellas, I’d like you to meet my good friend and colleague Commander Nyota Uhura,” McCoy introduced her to Fíli and Kíli.  The two bowed formally, and she nodded her head as well.  

“ _Abnâmul tada abdakhizu*”_ , she said in carefully worded Khuzdul.

 

Kíli audibly gasped.  Fíli’s eyes widened as he realized: at some point the Universal Translator was turned off.  McCoy and Christine stood by silently.

“Nice to meet you,” Uhura repeated in English.

 

“Nice…to… meet you,” Fíli repeated, also in English. 

Uhura nodded at Christine who pressed a button by the door.  The Translator was back on.  

“It was my understanding that you gentlemen wanted to learn Standard English, so I took the time to review your language,” Uhura explained.  “It turns out that Khuzdul is in the Federation database, from as early as the mid-22nd century.”

Fíli looked at Kíli, who looked confused.  “Balin.”

Kíli laughed and nodded his head.  “Of course.  When he was taken to Earth.”

“His speech was recorded and analyzed by none other than Hoshi Sato herself,” Uhura asided to McCoy and Chapel.  

“That would explain why it took so short a time for the Universal Translator to kick in,” McCoy replied.  

“Lucky for all of us,” Chapel added.

“So to that end, as I learn more about Khuzdul—“ Uhura started.

“We can help with that!” Kíli jumped in

“Thank you.  I was hoping this could be a two-way street so I can teach you grammar and syntax, and you can help me fine-tune mine as well.”

With that, she handed Fíli a bound pamphlet of laminated pages.  

“What’s this?” Fíli asked.

“This is your ABCs,” Uhura replied.  “First step of learning a language is to learn the building blocks.  This will help you translate the Roman alphabet into your runic alphabet and back.”

“What should we be doing?” Kíli asked.

“Play with it,” Uhura replied, revealing a dazzling smile.  “Write your names in the Roman alphabet.  Place names, family members—whatever you want.  This will get you ready for your first lesson.”

 

The next day, Dr. Chapel arrives to find the suite almost wallpapered in alphabets.  At first, Fíli and Kíli’s efforts are angular and downright rune-like, but soon, the curves of O’s and Q’s begin to emerge.  

“We had a friend,” Fíli explained, “whose handwriting was just beautiful.  He’d have a ball with your alphabet, to be honest.”

“ _We’re doing it for Ori!_ ” Kíli proclaimed from the other room.  Christine began to cackle laughing.  

“Oh my gosh,” She finally said, having caught her breath.  “You two are really going in feet-first, aren’t you?”

“When we get ourselves into something, it’s our way to become—what’s your phrase?—‘All in’.”

“You are _that_ ,” Christine remarked, as she walked along the walls, reading the words that the two had transcribed.

 

**Keeli**

**Feeli**

**Deese**

**Thorine**

**Ballin**

**Dwalin**

 

 

Were the names that she recognized.  She suspected that they were initially misspelled to take into account of them still gaining familiarity with her alphabet.

 

**Ered Luin**

and

**EREBOR**

 

Were also written as well.

 

There were also whole sections of wall filled with runes.  

“What do these say?” she asked.

“Oh!  We were doing it the other way as well,” Kíli explained.  

“Right, these pages have names and places we’ve encountered here on Earth,” Fíli added.

“So where am I?” Christine asked. They showed her.

“Well, keep in mind, some of the words are in Khuzdul, so ‘doctor’ doesn’t exactly translate,” Fíli said.  “But here.”

“Now ‘chapel’ has a meaning of its own, so did you take that into account?” Christine asked.

Kíli frowned.  Fíli pursed his lips.  “No…” they said in unison, deflating slightly.

Christine chuckled.  “That’s okay, guys.  The important thing is you’re learning.  What else have you been working on?”

 

“We’ve gotten your computer machine set up to play us Earth history,” Kíli explained.  

“When did you start?” Christine asked.

“When we told it to start from the beginning, it started to tell us about the creation of the sun and the planets,” Fíli explained.  “Which seemed like as good a place to start as any?”

“And where are you now?” She pressed

Fíli screwed up his face, as he recalled.  “The Pliocene epoch,” he replied.  “Some of your extinct wildlife look somewhat familiar to our thinking.”  

Kíli shuddered. “ _Eurypterids_.”

“That’s _natural_ history,” Chapel reminded them.  “Human history is a lot more complicated.”

“It can’t be,” Fíli said dismissively.  “There’s only one kind of you.  Where we’re from, there were at least four different kinds of peoples with their own histories and cultures.”

“You’d be surprised,” Chapel replied, and patted Fíli on the shoulder.  “Keep at it.  And don’t hesitate to ask questions about what you don’t understand.  And don’t worry if you _don’t_.  We humans _still_ don’t.”

FIli rolled his eyes, smiling, as Christine took her leave, but not before taking a few sheets of their practice papers.  “I’m going to forward some of this to Commander Uhura,” she told them.  “I think she’ll be very pleased.”

 

Before she exited the suite, however, Kíli moved to beckon her down to his level to whisper in her ear.  She listened thoughtfully before her face brightened measurably.  “Really?  Well, I’ll see what I can arrange.”  

With that Kíli placed a kiss on her cheek.  “Thank you!” he exclaimed.

The doors shut behind her.  Kíli couldn’t get the goofy expression off his face.

“What?” Fíli demanded.

“Nothing,” Kíli replied.

“Uh-huh, nothing,” Fíli grumbled.  

“Nothing!” Kíli repeated. 

 

The next day, Fíli went out with Eldon for lunch and extended debate.  The two never seemed to miss an opportunity to discuss philosophy.  Fíli appreciated Eldon’s openness to new ideas, even ideas he didn’t particularly agree with.  It was a pleasant departure from Fíli’s experiences with the race of Men on Arda.

That left Kíli alone.  

He continued his handwriting practice, attempting to flourish his capital letters like Ori had at times.  Kíli remembered sneaking peeks at his journals during their Quest, and being secretly impressed by his penmanship.  _Amad_ tried to get him to take pride in his writing and correspondences, but he’d felt no passion in it.  

 

**Kíli Viliul** , he wrote, slashing at the paper to place the accent mark.  Accent marks they learned further on, mostly when they saw the breves, macrons, umlauts, and what have you that the Roman alphabet could contain.  Kíli went for it.

There was a chime at the door.  Kíli wiped his hands together, put the pen down and trotted to the door to open it.

 

The door opened, and Kíli didn’t recognize the young woman who stood before him.  She looked barely out of her childhood years, he thought, not unlike himself by dwarvish standards.  She was tall and dark haired, her hair styled in an austere bun.  Her eyebrows arched upwards, and while her full lips were pressed to a dispassionate line, her eyes darted back and forth, as if she were nervous to visit his suite all by herself.  He smiled in an attempt to put her at ease.

“You are Kíli?” She asked.

He nodded.  “Did Dr. Chapel send you?” he asked her.

“I am here to deliver what she had requested,” she replied.  Kíli noticed the evenness of her tone.  She brought forth two leather-bound cases, with silver clasps.

“Excellent!” Kíli exclaimed, taking them from her.  “This one is Fíli’s, so let me just…”

She stood by quietly as he opened the case to examine its contents.  He nodded and  closed the case shut, securing it with the clasp.

“Thank you for this, Miss…?” Kíli fished for her name.

“Saavik,” she replied, and brushed a stray hair behind her ear.  

 

Her delicately pointed ear.  Kíli’s eyebrows traveled north.

 

“You’ll have to forgive me for staring,” Kíli said, as she began to glare at his staring.  “It’s simply…I’ve not interacted with none but humans since we arrived.”

“Of course.  The differences,” Saavik replied.  “My ears.  Your eyes.”

She, of course, referred to his horizontal pupiled, goat-like eyes.  

“It’s just…I haven’t seen a woman with pointed ears since I arrived,” KIli explained.  “That woman meant a great deal to me.”

“This would be an example of emotional association,” Saavik suggested.  “I am aware of such responses.”

“What, is that something that _you_ don’t have?” KIli asked, innocently.

“As a Vulcan, it is something that I’ve—That _we_ learn to avoid,” Saavik replied simply.

“That’s very interesting.  It must take lots of practice to suppress feeling,” Kíli remarked.

“Yes.” was Saavik’s clipped reply.

“Still, thank you again for this,” Kíli said, as Saavik turned to leave.  “I’d like to discuss your Vulcan culture further, if you’re so inclined to return.”

“Your offer is very generous,” Saavik told him.  “However, since I am attending the Enterprise’s training cruise within the week, I must decline for the moment.”

“Oh.  What a shame.  I was just telling Dr. Chapel how much I’d like to see the ship.  Perhaps when you return we can discuss your experience.”

“That is not necessary,” Saavik said.  “After all, _you_ will be in attendance as well, will you not?”

Kíli began to splutter and stammer as Saavik took her leave.  The door shut, leaving Kíli alone.  He looked back and forth in the empty suite before releasing a large, joyous scream, followed by delirious laughter.

 

“ _I’m going on a spaceship!_ ” he quietly exulted.

 

 

“I think Saavik might have spilled the beans,” Christine told Uhura over the comm in her office.

“How do you know?” The image of Uhura asked.

“Received a complaint from a neighboring suite about a holler of joy from their suite,” Chapel replied, and both of them shared a laugh.

“It was a bit of a struggle to get Spock to agree to let them come with us on the cruise,” Uhura explained.  “I wanted my trainees to get a first hand experience with a first-contact situation with an unknown language and to get into the nuts and bolts of the Universal Translator; using Fíli and Kíli as basically guinea pigs.  Spock was on the fence until I reminded him that Saavik was visiting him on the training cruise as well, and then he was putty in my hand.”

“I’m glad it worked out,” Christine replied.  

“So do you think they’re going to enter the Academy?” Uhura asked.

“Kíli, without a doubt,” Christine replied.  “Fíli…I don’t know.”

“He’s the older brother?” Uhura asked.

“He is, and if he insisted on returning to Arda with Kíli, Kíli would probably fall in line.  But Fíli is homesick and mourning a father figure.  So we’ll see.”

 

“We’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Nice to Meet You
> 
> Criss Damon is an OC created by my friend Mitch Gorrell, who generously lends him to me :)


	4. A Little Training Cruise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili and Kili are invited to come aboard the most famous starship to serve as a teaching aide.

Fíli was positive that Kíli was vibrating.  Like at some frequency that only Fíli could perceive.  

Then again, it cold be the smile pasted on his face that hadn’t left since they departed for the orbital dockyards’ office complex.  Around them officers and crewmen moved around them, working to get their various starships ready for launch and using the transporter pads to embark.  Fíli attempted to keep them out of their way, but still looking for someone from the _Enterprise_ to ferry them over.

“Are ye Fíli an’ Kíli?” a man’s lilted voice asked.  Fíli turned toward the voice and found an officer with graying hair and a mustache, his ample frame straining a bit in the double-breasted Starfleet uniform.  He looked down at Fíli and Kíli, they being about a head shorter.

“Yes, that’s us,” Fíli said as Kíli continued to look unbearably excited.

“Good.  This way, boyos,” he said, beckoning them toward the travel pod bays.

“Wait, we’re not doing the thing where we start one place and we end up in…another?” Kíli asked

“Aye,” the officer replied.  “Via th’ travel pods?  Thus the name?”  

Fíli could see that he was a little bit put out in escorting the two of them to the _Enterprise_ , so he made no argument.

 

It was the best decision of their lives.

 

Fíli looked out the front portal of the pod, the wide aperture giving them a generous view of the Earth below and the dockyards’ various drydock.  The planet at this altitude had a curve to its horizon, while still vast and sprawling below them.  Spots of dazzling white clouds over the ocean left discrete dark shadows over the waters.  He continued to gape and attempt to share the view with Kíli as their escort got the pod ready to depart.

“Where’re my manners, lads?” he finally said.  “Montgomery Scott, Chief Engineer of the _Enterprise_.”

Kíli’s eyes widened.  “You’re Scotty,” he whispered reverentially.

“Aye,” he replied, smiling. 

“Is it true that you can tell how fast the ship is going just by feeling the deck plates?” Kíli asked.

Scotty chuckled.  “Listen, lad.  When you’ve worked on starships as long as I have, you tend to begin to become one with her, learn her secrets inside an’ out.  She’s a contentious lass, the _Enterprise_.  But she’s generous to those who treats her right.”

Fíli side-eyed Scotty on that point, but Kíli kept his gaze on the burnt-orange filigree that they were coming up on, and the vessel that lay inside.

 

It was literally the ship of Eldon Sinclair’s dreams.  

While still sporting the basic silhouette of primary saucer section and secondary engineering section which sprouted twin engine nacelles, the _Enterprise_ now had the pearlescent finish and new-generation engine nacelles that marked it as state-of-the art.  As the travel pod entered the interior of the drydock facility, it sailed past the hangar bay, still receiving standard cargo material.  It instead traveled up the spine of the engineering hull, up the dorsal neck, over the impulse engine and straight to the docking ring behind the bridge module.

“This’ll just be easier,” Scotty muttered as he began turn the pod around to back into the docking ring. 

“Easier for what?” Fíli asked.

“Well, Uhura always mans her station for the initial launch,” Scotty explained.  “An’ from the bridge it’s just a hop, skip and a jump back to Engineering to get the rabble under control—My engineering trainees,” He explained.

“Will I get a chance to tour your Engine Room?” Kíli asked.  

“No promises—The _Enterprise_ is basically one big classroom these days an’ when they’re not trying to blow the damn thing up, they’re learning how to make her run,” Scotty explained.

Kíli looked slightly deflated, his smile beginning to fade.

“But dinnae think I won’t try,” Scotty finished, with a wink.  Kíli’s grin returned.

The pod jarred only slightly when docking was complete.  Scott pressed a control which eventually opened the door into the airlock, after a minute of hissing noises indicating the equalization of air pressures.  The two went in, and a flash of blue-white light hit them.  “Dinnae worry abou’ that, that’s just a decon flash,” he told them, and entered the airlock himself to receive the small blast.  A control on the other side of the airlock counted down, as it too opened.  A crewman walked past the three to commandeer the pod back to the office complex.

Standing to greet Scotty was a man in his late thirties, slightly lanky with a long lantern jaw.  

“Mister Scott, welcome aboard,” he told Scotty.  “These are the two guests?”

“Aye, Lad, Commander Uhura is expecting them on the Bridge,” he told him.  “Lads, this is Lieutenant Commander Riley, he’s in charge of security and tactical for this trip out.”

“Well it was short notice and all, with Commander Chekov transferring to the _Reliant_ ,” Riley remarked.  “At any rate, we’re on schedule to depart at 1400 hours.”

“Very good.  If you’ll follow me?” he said to Fíli and Kíli.

The four of them entered the turbo lift which merely swiveled to deliver them to the bridge.  

Fíli and Kíli both had expressions of awe on their faces as they looked all around the round chamber before them.  Computer stations studded the Bridge of the ship with blinking lights and flashing displays.  In the center of the Bridge there was a free standing station with two seats and before them, a larger chair reserved for the _Enterprise_ ’s captain.

“Mister Scott,” an even, deep voice intoned from the center seat, “Engineering requires your presence for a timely launch.”

“Aye, Captain,” Scotty replied, and turned back to the turbolift.  “Lads.”

“Thank you,” they both said in low tones.

“Gentlemen,” the voice turned to them, as they met the captain of the _Enterprise_ for the first time.  A lined face with a square jaw and wise, dispassionate eyes and hawkish nose greeted them.  

He, like Saavik, also had prominently pointed ears.  

“I am Captain Spock.  Commander Uhura invited you aboard the _Enterprise_ to participate in training for her students.  I expect appropriate behavior from all guests to this vessel, as you can well imagine.  Can I count upon you to comply?”

Fíli suddenly felt as if he were back in Rivendell, being addressed by Elrond; indeed, the resemblance of the Vulcan to that Elf was notable.  “Of course, Captain.”

“Yes, Captain,” Kíli replied in turn.  Kíli felt no animosity toward Captain Spock, as his demeanor was austere, but not ill-willed.  He was no Master of Mirkwood.  “If time permits, I was hoping to receive a tour of engineering.”

Spock considered for a moment, then replied.  “If time permits, and Commanders Uhura and Scott can allow.  Now if you do not mind, we’ve reserved seating for you by Commander Uhura’s station.”

They looked past Spock to see Uhura sitting at her station, legs crossed, and waving a hand at them.  

“The bridge of a starship is its nerve center,” Spock said.  “It is most often manned by its most senior staff members, its most experienced.”  He then indicated a cadet manning the navigation station next to a more seasoned officer.  “However, there is always room for gaining experience and seasoning on the bridge, as many of you will come to learn on this voyage.  Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Janssen?” 

The cadet turned to the captain and replied, “Aye, Captain!” 

“Mister Sulu, status?” Spock said to the helmsman.

“We’ve cleared all moorings, all thrusters at station keeping,” Sulu replied.

“Captain, incoming from Dockmaster,” Uhura reported.

Spock nodded as she played the message.  “ _This is Starfleet Operations._ Enterprise _is cleared for departure_ ,” the message played.

“This is Engineering,” Scott’s voice now played from Uhura’s console.  “Reaction control thrusters and Impulse power available at your discretion, bridge.”

“Thank you, Mister Scott,” Spock replied.  “Helm, take us out, aft thrusters.”

“Aye-aye, full thrusters,” Sulu said, working his control and toggling his control to ramp up the thrusters to full burn.

Fíli and Kíli only felt something for a short moment, But, as Kíli expected, the deck plating did seem to start humming.  

And on the view screen at the front of the bridge, the lattice of the dock structure began to fall away.  

“We are free of Spacedock and are clear to navigate, sir,” Sulu reported.

“Thank you, Commander,” Spock replied.  “Mr. Janssen, set a course for Jupiter Station.  Mr. Sulu, we will be cruising at one quarter impulse.”

“Aye, sir,” the cadet replied and began his astrogation.

Fíli turned from the screen to Uhura.  “Is Dr. McCoy aboard for this trip?” He asked.

“I believe so,” She replied.  

“If Kíli gets to see the Engine Room,” Fíli stated firmly, “Then I shall get to see his sickbay.”

Uhura smiled thoughtfully, before the turbo lift opened by her station, revealing three cadets. Beneath their uniform jackets they wore bright red collars.

“Ah, there’s my group,” Uhura said.  “Gentlemen, I want you to meet Cadets Second Class Martino, DeSalle, and Shav.”

Martino, a human with coffee-colored complexion and dark green eyes, extended his hand.  “Salvador Martino, at thy service.”

Fíli could tell that he was attempting to greet them in Khuzdul, as Uhura had done.  However, the wording was overly formal and therefore archaic, and he stifled a chuckle.  “And at yours and your house’s,” he replied, taking Martino’s hand into both of his.  “You honor us by… attempting our language.” He then added, in English, “Nice to meet you.”

Shav, a blue-skinned Andorian, reared her antennae and smirked.  “I told you, you were too formal,” She said under her breath.

“Nevertheless, Ms. Shav, the effort was made,” Uhura admonished.  “You’ll all have a chance to use the translator to learn Fíli and Kíli’s language and to get one on one conversations with them, to simulate a First Contact situation,” she told the trio.  

“I told you we were going to be used for lessons,” Fíli told Kíli.  

“I don’t mind a bit,” Kíli replied, never taking his eyes off the stars on the main viewer.

“We’re coming up on Jupiter,” Fíli reminded Kíli.  “It’s the biggest planet in their system, like Tulkas is in ours.”  Fíli had looked at Tulkas through a telescope at Ered Luin, with its bands of colors and shadows of moons which crossed its disk.  Jupiter looked to be fairly similar, a little bit warmer in color and with a large roiling red storm in its lower hemisphere.  However, it loomed huge on the screen, with streaming atmosphere meandering.

 

“For our first exercises, our Sciences Trainees will be using the sensor arrays of the _Enterprise_ on the Galilean Moons.  They will be coordinating their efforts through the bridge and, specifically, the Science Officer.  Mr. Ndimbe,” Spock indicated a dark skinned young man with sharp eyes, “Your role will be vital to this mission’s success.  The use of the sensor arrays is a finite resource, especially with multiple science teams using them.  You will assist in arranging a schedule so that all parties get access to all resources.”

“Aye, Captain,” Ndimbe answered.

“The role of Science Officer is also that of consensus.  The data the science teams accumulate runs through you directly to the Commanding Officer.  It is your report that they will read and make critical decisions from.  The fate of a starship can often be determined by collating data correctly.”

Ndimbe gulped.

“No pressure,” Fíli muttered.

Cadet Martino,” Spock turned to the communications student.  “The Communications officer is similarly key in coordinating efforts between the teams.  Science, Communications, Helm, Navigation, Engineering, and Ops management all work together to keep a starship’s complement on task.  To that end, let us begin.”

 

Uhura got up from her console as Martino gingerly took the console and logged in.  

“This is where we make our timely exit,” Uhura told the remaining two cadets and the Dwarves as static and comm traffic began coming in as Martino began to work.  

“Is he going to be…?” Fíli asked Uhura.  

“I think so,” she replied with a lopsided smile.  “He’s logged lots of time in the simulator, but there’s no substitute for this kind of training.”

They got in the turbolift.  Uhura tapped the panel and spoke.  “Rec Deck.”

“You’ll forgive me,” Fíli said as the lift dropped.  “But these are children who are learning this craft of running your ships.”

“This is where their careers in Starfleet begin,” Uhura replied.  “Or wherever they want to ply their trade.”

“See?  More flexible than the Daystrom Institute,” Kíli jumped in.

“I’m just saying that we’re four times their age,” Fíli said.

“If you don’t mind,” Shav said, “How old are you?”

“Eighty-two,” Fíli said.  “Give or take a few weeks—I don’t think those weeks I was dead should _count_ , do you?”

Kíli frowned.  “I don’t know.  It would make birthdays a bit confusing.”

“And you?” Shav asked Kíli.

“I’m five years younger,” Kíli replied.  

“And for you, that’s…young?” DeSalle asked.

Uhura put a hand up.  “This is just the kind of conversation that we should be saving for the official sessions.  In Khuzdul.  In _English_ ,” she said, pointedly at Fíli and Kíli.  “This is just as much a training session for you two as it is for them.”

 

The rec deck was empty.  All of the trainees were working on various aspects of the mission.  Uhura took them to the seating areas and had DeSalle and Shav on one side and Fíli and Kíli on the other.  

“Let me set this up for you,” Uhura began.  Fíli and Kíli are from an alien world, light-years away.  Their culture and custom are as yet unknown.  What you first say to them as representatives of Starfleet and the Federation could change everything.  That’s a lot to shoulder but as long as you communicate with respect and with understanding, that will come through.”  

With that, Uhura withdrew.  “We’ll discuss your progress at 1600,” she said, as she ducked back into the corridors.

 

The two young women sat quietly for only a moment, the awkward pause broken when Fíli cleared his throat.  “I am,” he began, in English, “Fíli, son of Vili, of the line of Durin.”

Shav nodded.  “My name is Shav Al’n, born of Andoria.” And with that, she bowed low, her antennae almost touching her fluffy white hair.

“Andoria, is that the planet you’re from?” Fíli asked.

Shav nodded.  “Andor to most folks.”

“What’s it like?” Kíli asked.

“Cold,” DeSalle muttered.  

Shav turned and fixed a look of amusement at her. “And how would _you_ know that?” She demanded.

“Because my mother was posted on Andor when I was a kid.  I’m fourth generation Starfleet,” DeSalle answered, and turned to the dwarves.  “My name is Tiffany DeSalle, daughter of Captain Vincent DeSalle, son of Captain Andrew Williams DeSalle.”

“So being in Starfleet runs in your family,” Fíli said.  “Is it like being a Reid?  Is it a title you carry?”

“Reid?  Like the Reid Complex?  no-o-o,” Tiffany replied.  But, if you must know, by following in their footsteps, I’m the second DeSalle in the family to serve—sort of—aboard the _Enterprise_.”

“Really?” Kíli replied.  “Is he on board?” 

Tiffany shook her head.  “Oh, no.  He’s on the ASD Bureau,” she explained.  “He designs new starships.”

“What about you, Shav?” Fíli asked.  “Your family?” 

“They stay at home,” she replied, dryly.  “Making _dolls_.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Kíli replied.  “Why, we knew a family that could make the most beautiful things for dwarrow-lads and lasses,” his voice trailed off, and his smile began to fade.  

DeSalle, perhaps worried that something offensive was said, blurted,  “How’s your stay on Earth been?”

“It’s a beautiful world,” Fíli said, as Kíli’s attention began to drift toward the large observation windows behind them.  “And a wonderful distraction as we continue to deal with several personal losses.”

“If you don’t mind my asking—“ Shav began.

“ _Personal_ losses,” Fíli repeated, firmly.

That snapped Kíli back to attention, and sent an annoyed glare at Fíli before saying, “A close family member has passed away.”

“Oh,” Shav said.  “You have our condolences.”

Tiffany, picking up on the nonverbal cues between Fíli and Kíli, possibly the beginnings of an argument, attempted to defuse the situation.  

“Does anyone want some kind of refreshment?  I think there’s food slots around here somewhere…”

“Tea sounds good,” Shav said, nodding vigorously, and picking up the tension as well.  “Tarkalean?”

“The _best_ ,” Tiffany said.  She got up and scooted away.

Shav kept her eyes on DeSalle until she was out of the room then snapped her attention back to Fíli and Kíli.  “Okay, look,” she said, eschewing all diplomacy.  “I’m sorry if we stepped on some kind of landmine between you two, but that’s between _you_ two, and not between you two and _us_ two.” She frowned.  “Two Two…  _Anyway!_   We were doing pretty good up until that point, so let’s keep it going, all right?”

“That’s a very…direct manner you have, Cadet Shav,” Fíli remarked.

“Like I said, I’m Andorian,” Shav said, puffing herself up.  We’re direct by default.”

DeSalle returned with four containers in a carrier.  “I’m afraid that the galley doesn’t have a proper tea service,” she said.  “But it’s fresh-brewed all the same.”

She distributed packets of sweetener to them and they took a moment to stir and sip at their teas before they were ready to continue.

In the end, Fíli and Kíli ended up telling DeSalle and Shav a bit about Khazad culture,    including their love of making and crafting things, and, surprisingly, the story of how Mahal created the Dwarves in secret.  Then the subject of fashion came up, and Kíli said something Fíli did not expect.

“No, see, the act of braiding another’s hair is a sign of trust—none would dare touch another’s hair unless that trust was implicit.  To do otherwise is nothing short of the basest of insults!”

“Neither of you are braided, right now,” Shav pointed out.

Kíli glanced at Fíli, then looked away.

“We…haven’t…not since we arrived here,” Kíli said quietly.

“Not because…” Fíli began, his brows knit.  “Kee, you don’t think I…?”

“ _Guys_ …” Shav began.

Fíli held his index finger up at Shav as he kept his eyes on Kíli.  “Kee, through all of this, you are the _only_ one I trust.  You are my brother.”

“I know,” Kíli replied.  “But you…”  He sighed and turned to the cadets. “Turn off the translator.”

DeSalle began to stammer as Shav acceded.   

“You don’t want to be here,” Kíli said.

“I don’t want to _stay_ here,” Fíli amended.  “I want to eventually go back home to _Amad_ , to our cousins and uncles and aunts.  Our cousin is ruling Erebor in our stead, Kee.”

“ _Your_ stead,” Kíli corrected him.  

“So you want to join Starfleet and become an engineer,” Fíli said.  “I will support you.  I believe in you!  I wouldn’t make you return against your will, though it would aggrieve me.  Do you think me that cruel?”

“I don’t know, I…” Kíli stammered.  “We’re…we’re a package deal, as McCoy says.  We belong together.”

Fíli turned and grabbed the back of Kíli’s head and touched their foreheads.

Kíli sniffled and added, “And you haven’t been happy here.  Not _really_.”

“Who’s happy all the time anyway?” Fíli said.  “I’m…I’m going to be all right.”  With that he glanced back at DeSalle, who looked like she was on the brink of tears herself, and Shav, who looked back at Fíli and turned the translator back on.  

“All worked out?” she asked.

“What all did you understand?” Fíli asked, smirking.

“You talked about your mother and Starfleet and you did that… forehead thing.  And you smoothed out some anxieties,” Shav replied.  

“Oh, you _guys_ ,” DeSalle keened and moved in to hug the both of them.  

 

From the corridor, they could hear Uhura’s voice wryly saying, “Uh, I don’t think that’s standard protocol, Ms. DeSalle.”

Tiffany turned bright pink as she slinked back to her seat.  

“Well, I don’t know if that was a completely successful cultural exchange, but I get the feeling that the Durins might have had a breakthrough,” She added to the group. 

Fíli patted his brother on the back.  “I think so.”

“DeSalle, Shav, report to the briefing room.  I’ll be along shortly.”

The cadets got up and filed into the corridor and away.  

“Well, gentlemen, thank you for being my object lesson, first of all.  What do _you_ think you’ve learned about communicating with alien life?” 

Fíli smiled at that.  “I didn’t think of it that way, but, it was illuminating.  DeSalle comes from a family which holds Starfleet as a tradition, while Shav seems to be bucking _her_ family tradition of toymakers to strike out on her own.”

Uhura nodded and pursed her lips.   “True, but in terms of their cultural differences, Human and Andorian, what did you make out?”

“Humans tend to wear their hearts on their sleeve more easily,” Kíli replied.  “Andorians keep their feelings closer to the vest, but prefer direct truth over diplomacy.”

“DeSalle seemed very determined to stop the tension between my brother and I,” Fíli added.  “She seemed almost afraid of it.  Shav, on the other hand, directly pointed it out, and suggested we move on from it.”

Uhura nodded.  “She was blunt about it, but she didn’t tap-dance around it.  She also seemed to do very well using context and non-verbal cues to determine your conversation when the translator was turned off.  She picked out the words in Khuzdul she understood and filled in some of the blanks.”

“Does this mean she gets higher marks?” Kíli asked.  

“It means,” Uhura said, smiling, “That I’ll be able to tweak my lesson plans for the two of them thanks to this first encounter.  Now here’s an assignment for you two.”

Fíli folded his arms, while Kíli leaned forward.

“Captain Spock has authorized the department heads to allow you to sit in on training sessions throughout the ship.  With Dr. McCoy in Sickbay, Commander Scott in Engineering, and with Commander Sulu and myself on the Bridge.  The Universal Translator will be off for some of that time, and I want you to listen to the native languages.”

“Languages?” Kíli asked.

“Yes, Kíli, in the multiple.  Thanks to the Universal Translator, many crew members speak their native language from Earth and throughout the Federation.  Most make an effort to learn Standard English, but don’t always use it.”

“Will this simply be observation?” Fíli asked.

“Partly,” Uhura replied.  I want you to get a feel of the various cadences and patterns of speech that the speakers engage in—“

She was interrupted by the comm.  “Commander Uhura to the bridge immediately,” Martino’s voice spoke.

She moved to the comm panel by the Rec Deck entrance and hit a button.  “I’m on my way,” She replied into it.  She turned to the two of them.  “Stay here.  It’s probably…nothing. We’re still in the Sol system for heaven’s sake.”

As she left them alone, something from the observation windows caught Kíli’s attention.  He got up to get a closer look, as Fíli looked on. 

“What is that?” he asked.

“What is what?” Fíli called after him.  He got up and followed his brother to the window.  

From the window, the two had a clear view of the aft of the ship from the _Enterprise’s_ saucer section.  They could see the massive engine nacelles with dark blue grilles on the inboard sides.  

Below them, they could see an object which looked a little larger than the travel pod that brought them aboard.  It was greenish gray, and lacked the gracefulness of the ship they were on.  

Fíli frowned.  “That’s not one of theirs,” he said.  “Is this part of the training?”

 

Kíli shook his head.  “I don’t know.”


	5. Not Too Not Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring Special Guest Star Kor!

The smaller ship didn’t seem to take any aggressive stance, at least from Fíli’s perspective.  It simply hung there in space, waiting.

“They called Commander Uhura to the bridge, which means they recalled all the senior staff to deal with the situation.  That must mean it’s at least not usual,” Fíli reasoned.

“All right.  So we’re not in immediate danger,” Kíli agreed.

Fíli was thinking of scenarios that he hadn’t had to think about since he’d…since they’d died at Erebor.  He came aboard the Enterprise as a guest, not a crew member.  

Neither of them had touched a weapon in months.

 

A boatswain’s whistle from the comm panel interrupted his thoughts.  “Misters Fíli and Kíli, please make your way to the bridge,” Uhura’s voice called.

They started and looked at each other. 

“We’ll see what this is all about from there, I expect,” Fíli said.

They walked down the corridor, retracing their path, back to the turbo lift doors.  

“Take us to the bridge,” Fíli said to the empty turbo car once the doors closed.  The lift lurched slightly, but obeyed.  

When they arrived back on the bridge, they immediately returned to their seats beside Uhura.

“Gentlemen,” Spock said to them.  They stopped what they were doing and turned to face the Vulcan captain.

Spock indicated a new individual.  He was dressed in earth tone colors, to match his swarthy complexion.  He glowered behind bushy eyebrows and a bare, built-up forehead with bony ridges upon it.  His hair was wavy and fell down to his shoulders.  

“This is Commander Kor,” Spock told them.  “He has come here on personal business from Qo’NoS.”

Fíli and Kíli looked at each other, confused.  “Fíli and Kíli, at your service,” Fíli said for the both of them.

“It is as you said,” Kor said.  “Khazad.”

“You have us at a disadvantage, sir,” Fíli said.  “Have you met others like us?”

“Not me, personally,” Kor said, smiling.  His teeth were large and predatory.  “However, _GIj’ej’wov_ can’t help but rhapsodize about Arda and it’s peoples whenever he isn’t a meddling old creature.”

“He is, of course, speaking of the Admiral,” Spock added.  

 

“‘The Admiral’” Kor mocked the Vulcan slightly.  “Doesn’t nearly do him justice, my little friends, does it?  ‘The Admiral’ who, the legends say, spoke truth to Kahless and Molor themselves!  Who warned of the Last Emperor’s downfall!  Who stayed the hand of K’yarch the Unyeilding when the Last Hur'q was held!  And they know him as ‘The Admiral’!  But we know better, don’t we?” Kor finished, looking Fíli directly in the eye, and Fíli held his gaze right back.

“We know him as Tharkûn,” Fíli said. “Mithrandir to the Elves.  Gandalf to the Men of the North, Incanús to the Men of the South.”  

 

Spock raised an eyebrow.

 

Kor chuckled again.  “Yes, that’s the one.  At any rate, he told me you’d be here.  He thought you’d be interested in helping me settle a score.  He also thought you’d be interested as well, Captain Spock.  Though, I see your ship has settled into the role of a schoolhouse.”

Spock nodded.  “I have, however, received the Admiral’s orders.  And I am myself rather curious as to the nature of your visit.  You are not here as an official of the Klingon Empire.”

That was not a question.

“No,” Kor agreed.  Perhaps we can discuss this out of the earshot of children?”

Spock nodded.  “Mister Sulu, you have the conn.”

 

A few decks down, Spock, McCoy, and Uhura convened with Kor, Fíli and Kíli in a conference room.  The Starfleet officers sat down at the table, while the Klingon and the two Dwarves preferred to stand.  Fíli and Kíli mostly because the table came up to their chins and thought it rather undignified.  Kor, because…well, Kor.

“You are familiar with the Federation diplomat named Curzon Adon?” Kor asked Spock.

“I am familiar with his works as associated with that of Ambassador Sarek,” Spock answered, stiffly.  “Am I to deduce that he brought you into Federation space?”

Kor nodded.  “He will join us shortly, I’m sure,” he said.  “In the meantime, he, myself and two other Klingon commanders that you are familiar with have been in the pursuit of an individual who has plagued my house for far too long.  He has no honor.  He has been stripped of his title and his name.  He is known now only as The Albino.”

Fíli frowned.  Thoughts—memories of the pale skinned _thing_ that stalked his family—flooded him as Kor continued to talk about The Albino the deformed former member of his house, who, after his betrayal, began a life of crime up and down the Klingon border with the Federation.

“This is a dire tale, indeed, Kor,” Fíli pointed out.  “But I’m still not seeing the stake we have in it.”

“One of his trusted partners in crime,” Kor said, “Is from Arda.  His name is Azkh.”

Kíli looked up in alarm, then to Fíli.  “That’s—!”

Fíli chuckled.  “Of course.”

“And when the junior diplomat intercepted their communication, Azkh seemed very interested that two bodies were shipped from Arda so soon after—The name is _glorious_ —The Battle of the Five Armies.”

“So Bolg had more than one spawn,” Fíli sighed.  “And he’s out here…what?  Looking for us?  Does he even know that Azog was slain?  Does he care?”  Fíli stepped right up to the Klingon.  “Does he hunger for our blood?”

“The Grey One feared it may be so,” Kor growled down at Fíli.  “Otherwise, I would not involve you in such a personal matter.  My quest can give you peace of mind among the peaceful Federation, if you wish it.”

Fíli turned immediately to Captain Spock.  “Sir, I could not risk your students in this—“

Spock nodded.  “The Admiral’s orders do not require the Enterprise to participate in Kor’s request.”  Then he added: “However, we can afford to spare a few key officers in this short time.  We will take the Enterprise out, as we planned to do in this exercise, close to the Klingon Neutral Zone, and we will go from there.  Commander, you may join Misters Fíli and Kíli as guests until we arrive.”

Kor nodded.  

“We will not discuss the nature of this mission to the cadets.  Senior staff only.”

“Aye, sir,” Uhura replied.

“Now hang on, Spock,” McCoy objected.  “We’re going to take the ship out, release Fíli and Kíli to Kor’s custody and let them do God knows what along the Neutral Zone?  _That’s_ the Admiral’s orders?  I just brought these two back to life!  I can’t guarantee I can do it a second time!”

“Nevertheless, Doctor, that is what we will do,” Spock replied.

 

Fíli felt disarmed, now more than ever.  He wondered if there was a locker back at Starfleet Medical, where the belongings that were on his person were kept, that had his throwing knives.

Now that there was some semblance of his old life returning, He wondered if he still wanted to be part of it again.  Was being reunited with his family going to make things better?

“Fíli,” McCoy took him by the elbow.  “You can back out of this, y’know.  That Klingon bastard doesn’t need you for more than cannon fodder and you know it.”

“If not today, Doctor, then later, when we are even less prepared?” Fíli replied.  “This life on Earth, I feel, is a bit…sedentary.  Now, while my eyes are sharp, and prepared, to stave off the wolves, now is the time.”

McCoy looked at Fíli, as if he’d never truly seen him until then.  And perhaps he hadn’t.  “Well, I’m just saying, and as annoying as it is to quote him, Spock does like to say that there’s always possibilities.”

“Thank you,” Fíli said.  “Now about that tour of your sickbay?”

 

While Kor and Kíli was taken to their VIP staterooms aboard the Enterprise, Fíli followed McCoy to his Sickbay facility.  He found it staffed with three nursing students and two residents.  

“See, they get the hang of the equipment here before they get shipped off to do their rotation on some other ship,” McCoy explained.  “And the nursing students do the same.”

“How much experience have they had already before they get here?” Fíli asked.  

“Being a medical officer on a starship requires a lot more than a GP or a specialist,” McCoy explained.  “You have to be able to perform surgery, emergency medicine, and medical research on the fly.  You also have to have expertise in coming up with treatments with various alien species, including those we may have never seen before.”

“You mean like me?” Fíli asked.  He glanced at the main exam biobed in the center of the sickbay ward and slid a hand down its smooth surface.

“Well, yes.  We took scans of your bodies and realized that your anatomy and physiological processes were at a certain percentile of the norm—what most humanoid species have in common—and proceeded accordingly.”

“What percentile?” Fíli asked.  McCoy glanced at him.  Fíli seemed adrift.

“Ninety-eighth,” McCoy replied.  “It’s those goat-eyes of yours.  You also have slightly thicker calcium deposits in your skeleton, if you want to know.”

“How long does it take?”  Fíli asked.  “To become a physician?”

“Four years undergrad, and four more med school.  A year of residency, like those guys out there.  Fíli, are you…?”

“I was just thinking of…before.  When Kíli was fevered and poisoned, I wanted to do everything in my power to get him well.  To find a solution.”

“That’s what my job is,” McCoy said, leaning next to the biobed by Fíli.  “Finding solutions to make people well.”

“Nine years, though,” Fíli sighed.  “That’s a long apprenticeship.”

“It’s true,” McCoy agreed.  “It’s, uh, quite a bit of a commitment.  You wouldn’t be heading home anytime soon.”

Fíli frowned and didn’t meet McCoy’s gaze.

“On the other hand, it guarantees you can keep an eye on your kid brother,” McCoy suggested.

Fíli nodded.

“Fíli,” McCoy said, putting a hand on his shoulder.  “It seems pretty clear from what you’ve said about your relatives that whatever the outcome of that battle, they wanted you to come out here for an education.  The Admiral’s set that in motion.  Now there’s a human expression about grabbing the brass ring, which means, you know…go for it.”

Fíli looked up at Dr. McCoy.  

“Your uncle—The one who was killed—He’d want you to take advantage of this opportunity, wouldn’t he?”

Fíli chuckled.  “He’d say that as his heir I should take advantage of every opportunity to be the best leader I could be.”

“All right.”  McCoy folded his arms.

“But he’s gone.  And I’m here.  And perhaps his wishes are complete now.”

“Then…it’s up to you.”  McCoy ambled over into his office.  

 

Fíli returned to the guest quarters, where he heard activity from the small bathroom area.  

Kíli had found the jacuzzi tub.

“On a space ship!” Kíli exclaimed, above the roiling water in the tub.  “It’s a marvel!”

Fíli smiled and exited the bathroom.  He walked over to the circular table alcove and sat down.  

“I don’t like the sonic shower, I’ve decided,” Kíli called, still in the tub.  “Who looked at a shower bath and decided it had to be more sonic?” 

Fíli silently shrugged and looked at the book he’d brought.  The one about the Reid Complex.  

He leafed through it, the words still not quite making sense.  Through Commander Uhura’s tutoring, however, he could begin to pronounce the words, and pick out the proper nouns.

Old Adam.

Lisette.

And the mysterious Criss Damon.  He continued to gravitate toward the section of the book that contained photographs.  There was photos of the Reid family, and the various other founding families who began the Complex’s decades-long community

There were no photos of Criss Damon.

There were photos of an older man, who had an ever-changing array of hairstyles and facial hair, some of which was downright Dwarf-like.  

And then there was the portrait of Old Adam, his hair thin, white and wispy, posing in profile, wearing a purple outfit.

  
[When I Am Old, I Shall Wear Purple](http://bububorg.deviantart.com/art/When-I-Am-Old-I-Shall-Wear-Purple-454727968) by [bubuBORG](http://bububorg.deviantart.com/) on [DeviantArt](http://www.deviantart.com)

“When…I am old…” Fíli sounded out the quote, “I shall…wear…purple.”

“Hmm,” Fíli said to himself.  “That sounds like a poem.  Or a song.”

 

“What’s that?” Kíli asked.  He was in his robe and thumped down on his bunk.

“It’s from the book.  I’ll read it and you translate.”

“Huh?”

“The Universal Translator,” Fíli explained.  “I read the English, you tell me what I’m saying.”

So Fíli did, and Kíli did as well.

“‘When I am old, I shall wear purple’,” Kíli repeated.

“Wonder what it means,” Fíli sighed.  

“Who said it?” Kíli asked.

“Old Adam,” Fíli replied.  “It’s a quote attributed to him in the book.”

“Let me see,” Kíli said, and Fíli walked over with his finger holding the place and showed him.  Kíli cocked his head and grinned.

“He looks happy and mischievous, for an old man,” Kíli decided.  “I want to be like that.”

“So like you now, but older?” Fíli joked.

“I wonder if all his descendants share that,” Kíli mused.  

A bell chimed, indicating someone at the door.  Fíli arose from the alcove to answer it.

“Oh!” Fíli exclaimed.  

It was Commander Kaitlin Reid.

“Is this a bad time?” she asked.  

“Not at all,” Fíli said.  He gestured her to come in.  

“In fact, we were leafing through your book about the Complex,” Fíli said, as she took a seat.

“Commander Uhura mentioned that you were learning English in order to read it,” Kaitlin said.  “You know, I could have a copy printed in Khuzdul for you—“

Fíli put a hand up.  “Learning English has become more than just reading the book, but it is part of it,” he told Kaitlin.  “But yes, thank you.”

“Could you explain this?” Kíli asked, showing her the portrait of Old Adam.

“The quote?” she asked.

Kíli nodded.

“It’s a poem,” she explained.  “Called ‘Warning’.  It’s about taking advantage of one’s advanced age as a positive.”

Kíli beamed.  “As I thought.  Are all the Reids so apt to mischief?”

Kaitlin chuckled.  “My mother would agree.  Me and my two brothers kept her running  around for years.  Speaking of my brother…” she pulled a paper out of a satchel strapped over her shoulder.  “My brother Bradley would like you to confirm some documents.  About Arda.”

Fíli untied the rolled parchment and unfurled it. 

“This is…” He said, trailing off.

“Is that…?”

Kaitlin leaned in as they placed the paper on the table.

 

It was Thror’s map of Erebor.

 

“How did your brother get a hold of this?” Fíli asked.  “From all the way out here.”

“From The Admiral.  From Mister Grey himself,” Kaitlin sighed.

“He wanders in Middle-earth, he wanders through the Klingons’ empire,” Fíli murmured.  “And in your family?”

“Well, that’s a story for another time, but, yes,” Kaitlin replied.  “At any rate, Brad’s been studying the Númenoreans and their spread through the quadrant.”

“Númenoreans?” Kíli asked.

“Through the _quadrant_?” Fíli repeated.  “Forgive me, but perhaps I’m not as learned on Númenor and the First Age as I should be.  You’re saying they were spread _beyond_ Arda?”

“Oh yes,” Kaitlin said.  “Their influence covered a good swath of Alpha Quadrant.  That was millennia ago, though.  The galactic map was much different then.”

“Why are you here?” Fíli asked.  “Surely not to discuss our great-grandfather’s map.”

Kaitlin’s eyes bugged slightly at that revelation, but shook her head.  “No.  I’m going with you and Kor.  The _Enterprise_ will continue on with its training maneuvers, and the _USS Hanson_ will recover us when the mission’s complete.”

“ _Hanson_?” Kíli repeated.  “Wasn’t that the ship that delivered our bodies to Earth?”

“ _Was_ it?” Kaitlin replied with a smile.  “Of course it was.  Good ol’ Rott doing a solid for Mister Grey.”

“Have you much experience with Klingons such as Kor?” Fíli asked her.

“Klingons, yes,” Kaitlin replied.  “Klingons such as _Kor_ , well…”

“We get the impression that the Federation and Klingons are not close allies.” Kíli said.

“No.” Kaitlin said, emphatically.  “In fact, we have come to the brink of war several times.  The last time, it took a virtual act of god to stop it.  Talks begin and stall.  The fact that Kor is here at all says more about him than the Klingons in general.”

“Who is he?” Kíli asked.  

“He is from a prominent House,” Kaitlin explained.  “He is regarded as a Dahar Master, though I’m not sure what that’s in reference to.  He also was the Governor of Organia, whose peoples stopped the beginnings of a large-scale war.”

“So Klingons, they are considered warriors and conquerors?” Fíli asked.

Kaitlin nodded.  There was a moment of somber silence.

“Who’s Criss Damon?” Kíli blurted, breaking the mood.

Kaitlin chuckled.  “Perhaps another time for that story.  We’re going to be underway at 0500 tomorrow morning and we should all get our rest.”

With that she got up and made for the door.  

“Mister Grey’s brief says that you’ve got some expertise in combat,” She said to them.  “I’ll leave that part with Kor, but you may be fitted with a phaser.  Just so you know.”  With that, she left.

She walked down the corridor to her own guest quarters a ways before she heard her name.

“Kait!” 

She turned and found Kevin Riley jogging toward her, slightly out of breath.

“Why, Lt. Riley,” she said with a wry smile.  “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I was so busy with the security clearance…that I didn't get a chance to welcome you aboard,” he huffed.

“Well, now you have,” Kaitlin replied.

“Aw, come on, Kait, don’t be like that,” Riley pouted.  

“I’m only on board the _Enterprise_ because of my orders,” Kaitlin said.  “You know how I feel about this ship.”

“It’s barely the same ship!” Riley protested.

“It’s the ship that killed my kid brother,” Kaitlin said.  “I’ll see you at 0500.”  With that, the doors to her quarters opened, and she left the corridor behind with Riley.

 

 

Fíli was up first.  He fit himself with relatively comfortable clothes, but took the fur-trimmed coat as well.  His boots felt right on the rubberized deck floor.  

“Here,” Kíli’s voice came from behind him.  He’d grabbed a length of his hair and began to braid.  

“Kee,” Fíli sighed.

“If not today, then when?” Kíli replied.  

Fíli nodded.  “Of course.”  He allowed his brother to restore his front and back braids, and capped each one with his beads.  His moustache he left unbraided, simply because it was too time-consuming.  

Now Fíli turned to his brother.  “Now for you.”

“What?” Kíli replied.  “I haven’t—“

“You’ve died and you’re going to become an engineer,” Fíli said, smiling.  “I think you’ve earned your braids today.”

Kíli sat while Fíli braided two plaits of braids on each side of Kíli’s head and tucked them behind his ears.  The rest of his mop was tied up in its now-usual topknot.  

“There we are.” Fíli said.

“Are you ready?” Kíli asked.  

“The strange thing of this is, I am.  Of everything that’s happened since we arrived on Earth, this is perhaps the only thing that makes sense.” he paused, bowing his head for a moment before adding, “Does that sound sad?”

Kíli absently put his hand up to touch his new braid.  “Perhaps.”

They walked to Kor’s cabin and paged him.  The door parted, revealing Kor, all sharp-toothed grin, looking down at them.  “Ah, there we are.  Come in, I’ve got something for you.”

They walked in, where Kor had items laid out on one of the beds.  Fíli walked up to it and brightened immediately.

“My blades!” he exclaimed.  

“Very well made, I must say,” Kor noted.  “No Klingon smith could do better.”

“Thank you,” Fíli said.  “They’re of my own make.”

Kíli immediately moved to the bow.  “It’s been repaired!” Kíli exclaimed.

Kor nodded.  “The arrows, I’m afraid, are Klingon-make, so you may need to get used to their weight.”

Fíli’s smile faded.  “These should have been buried with us,” he said.

“They may yet,” Kor suggested.

Kíli shrugged, and grabbed the quiver and strapped it on.

Fíli did likewise, placing the sheath and straps under his coat.  He also took the throwing knives and put them inside the coat. 

“Impressive,” Kor said.  

“What about you?” Kíli asked. 

“Oh, I wasn’t about to bring my _bat’leth_ onboard so that Vulcan can confiscate it and analyze it for clues,” Kor snorted.  “It’s a shame they promoted Kirk.  He would have insisted to come along.”

“Oh, I _see_!” Kíli exclaimed.  “You chose the _Enterprise_ specifically because you had dealings with them!”

“There’s a fine line between adversary and friend,” Kor explained.  “Sometimes you can be both, if you can help it.”

“Because of trust?” Fíli suggested.

“Trust!?  No!” Kor exclaimed, roaring with laughter.  “I wouldn’t trust Kirk as far as I could throw a full-grown targ!”

“Let’s get to the hangar bay,” Kíli suggested.  

 looked over his shoulder at Kor (And the security escort; Apparently having a Klingon wander the corridors of the _Enterprise_ wasn’t to be done). Kor smirked at the guards as they ambled toward the turbolift.  

Kor’s shuttle was getting prepped.  Kaitlin and Riley were already there.  

“Ah, Commander Reid!” Kor greeted her.  “It seems like only yesterday that we were trading torpedoes over the Neutral Zone.”

“Good times,” Kaitlin replied, with gritted teeth.

“Tell me,” Kor pressed.  “How has that Cainian lapdog of yours fared since they broke the three of you up?  And the Augment?”

Kaitlin pursed her lips and closed her eyes.  “They told me you were going to be civil,” she said.

Kor shrugged.  

“Your shuttle’s being prepped for launch within the half-hour,” Riley chimed in.  “Maybe stuff the small talk until we’re underway?”

“Sounds good to me,” Fíli sighed, and wandered into the shuttle.  

What he saw was a stark contrast from the _Enterprise_.  Very little hid the metal bulkheads from view and metal plates made a satisfying _clank_ report from Fíli’s boots.  Reddish lighting shone from above.

It seemed more familiar to him, to be honest, from his life in Ered Luin, than his last few months in San Francisco.  He spied bare metal cots—no bedding—near the rear of the shuttle, which elicited spartan conditions when the line of Durin were traveling on the roads of Middle-earth.  

It also brought to mind more recent memories that Fíli didn’t really want to recall at that moment.

“Back on the road!” Kíli exclaimed.  He put his bow and quiver down on one of the cots.  It landed with a reverberated _clunk_.  “How many caravans had we traveled like this, selling wares?”

“Far too many,” Fíli replied.  “Kee, I hope we get him.  Having these two worlds intertwine seems…not wrong, but _improper_ , somehow.  Orcs out here, defiling the Alpha Quadrant…”

“Everything is new out here,” Kíli countered.  “I’d rather they were out here than home.  Home they have swords and arrows.  Out here, they can be disintegrated!”

“Or tamed, perhaps.  Something tells me these Klingons were no different than Orcs once upon a time.”

“‘Tame’ isn’t a word I’d use to describe Kor,” Kíli sighed.  “Fee, can we trust him?”

“Hey,” Fíli put a hand on Kíli’s shoulder.  “We trust each other.  We can trust Commander Reid and Riley.  Kor we’ll keep an eye on.  Besides, do you think he trusts _us_?”

 

They heard footsteps clamor behind them into the shuttle and Kíli stifled whatever he was about to say.

“Hey, guys?” It was Kaitlin.  “Kor’s fixing to launch us now, so let’s get to the cockpit.”

Riley took up the rear as Kor strode past them all.  “Are you rated for Klingon shuttles?” he asked Kaitlin.

“I might be a bit rusty, but I think I check out all right,” She replied.  

“Not that I needed a co-pilot for this,” Kor spoke up.  “But your help could be useful.”

“You’re welcome,” Kaitlin muttered.

Fíli looked at the readouts on the nearest console.  Red letters in slashing strokes looked not quite unlike the Cirth, but the words remained unreadable to him.  

“I don’t suppose they’re working on a Universal translator that let’s you read foreign letters,” he joked.

“Not unless they invent a device that rearranges the language center of your brain,” Riley quipped.

“Without turning it into pudding,” Kor added.  

Fíli gulped.

“Hangar control has given us the go,” Kaitlin reported.

“Exit vector programmed in,” Kor replied.  “Clearing hangar floor.”

Unlike on the bridge of the Enterprise, Fíli and Kíli could feel the upward motion as the shuttle began to hover.  

Kor grinned toothily. “Ahead full thrusters.”

“Are you crazy—?” Kaitlin began to protest, but stopped as the forward motion left her breathless for a moment.   The shuttle lurched forward, barreling toward the invisible force field which kept the atmosphere within the hangar bay intact.  The impact was felt by all of them, especially Kíli who was knocked out of his seat.  Kor’s wide eyes and grin was all that they needed to know that he was enjoying himself thoroughly.

Fíli cursed.  “Mahal’s balls!” he exclaimed.  “What are you playing at?”

“The sooner we get underway, the sooner we can get that bastard Albino,” Kor said.  “And we can all celebrate later with a cask of bloodwine!” 

“Ugh, whatever,” Kaitlin sighed.  

 

Kíli got back into his seat.  The shuttle went to warp, much more smoothly than the launch, and he stared as the stars streaked past.  

“We’re really out here.  We’re really doing this,” he said to himself quietly.

 

Fíli and Kíli were adventuring once more.


	6. Back in the Saddle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili and Kili think they're after an Orc. But are they?

“On a stage, with chorus singers?”

“No, nothing quite so lofty.”

 

 

Kaitlin woke up with a crick in her neck, halfway listening to a conversation about opera.

“Wha…?”

“They’ve been jabbering for hours,” Riley groaned.  “And then there was the singing.”

“Klingon…freaking…opera,” Kaitlin sighed.  “That’s not what I wanted to wake up to.”

“Not quite.  It was the little guys singing a whole song cycle about defeating a dragon and taking back a mountain.  Kor was singing along like, halfway through.”

“A dragon, huh?” Kaitlin stretched and sat up on her cot.  “Must have been a hell of a dragon.”

“Hmm.” Riley folded up his jacket and pulled his field vest over his jumper.  He checked the charge status of his phaser and shoved it in its holster.  

“Wonder if they slayed the dragon,” Kaitlin muttered as she started to do the same.

“Maybe that’s why they ended up here,” Riley replied.  Kaitlin turned to look at him.  He had the most earnest expression.

“Oh, don’t give me that face,” she scoffed as she pulled her hair back.

“What face?” Riley asked, breaking into what Kaitlin thought was the doofiest smile.

“The face that makes _all_ the young ensigns swoon,” she replied, turning away so that he couldn’t see her own smile.

“Are we going to be doing this for the whole mission?” Riley asked.

“Kevin—“ Kaitlin began.

“No, I mean it, because this is your whole deal,” Riley pressed.  “Because I like a good flirt game, but then you shut me out.  This is why we didn’t work.”

“Are you geared up?” Kaitlin asked.

“And _there we go_ ,” Kevin muttered.  “Yeah, all geared up, _Commander_.”

 

They were interrupted by a roar of Kor’s laughter.  “BARRELS?  You snuck out in BARRELS?!” 

Kaitlin entered the shuttle cockpit finding Kor sitting at the helm while Fíli stood, hands on hips.  “If you’re just going to laugh through the whole story, I won’t be bothered,” Fíli said, indignantly.  

“No, no, please, continue with your story of barrels out of bond,” Kor said, barely containing his amusement.

“What’s our position?” Kaitlin asked, a little louder than necessary.

“We’re five light-years inside the Neutral Zone,” Kor told her.  “We’ve successfully evaded all the listening stations on both sides.”

“And what’s our ETA from the drop point?” Riley asked.

“Another five hours,” Kíli replied, causing Kaitlin to start.  

Fíli turned to his brother and smirked, as did Riley.

“What?” Kíli said.  “It’s no less easier to pick up than English!”

Kor chuckled and placed a hand on the younger Dwarf’s shoulder.  “Good to hear.  You _may_ survive out here yet.”  And with that, he took his leave of the cockpit.

Kíli clambered into the pilot seat and gazed at the controls.  “Just similar enough…just past my grasp but if I keep at it, I think I’ll be co-piloting this thing in no time…”

“My brother, the engineer,” Fíli said, sitting back down.

“No, no, that’s the way to do it,” Riley said, taking the co-pilot seat and flipping switches.  “Besides, a seasoned pilot knows his controls by touch, not by reading the labels anyway.”

“A seasoned pilot,” Kaitlin repeated.

“I’ve logged thousands of hours, thank you very much, Commander,” Riley retorted.  “It’s not as fun as playing custodian to the family bunker, but it’s a living.”

Kaitlin’s lips pursed into a perfect ‘o’. “Words _hurt_ , Mister Riley.”

Kíli leaned toward Riley and narrowed his eyes.  “ _Do not_ speak ill of the Reid Complex, Commander Riley,” He growled.  “The tale has been told and it holds merit.”

“Uh…no disrespect, friend,” Riley said hastily, holding up his hands.  

Kaitlin leaned in and added, _sotto voce_ , “And they don’t even know all about Criss Damon, yet, Kev.”

Fíli looked at the two of them and sighed.  While part of him internally grumbled that if these two were going to be angry-flirting throughout this entire mission, it would be a blessing if anyone would make it back alive, another part noted how Thorin-like the observation was.  

By Mahal, it still hurt to miss him.

“Let’s spend the remaining time we have working out our strategy,” Fíli suggested.  When we arrive, we’ll be in motion almost immediately and I want all of our points clear on their objectives.”

“Yes, _sir_ ,” Kaitlin said, an impressed smile on her face, mirroring Riley’s.  “Are you sure you haven’t considered joining Starfleet for command?”

Kíli looked at his brother, expectantly.

“Let’s table that business for now,” Fíli said.  “Kee, you’ve checked out the Klingon’s quiver of bows?”

Kíli nodded.  “It’s a slightly heavier weight to the arrows, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“All right.  I’ll also get you kitted up with some knives for you as well.  _Keep them on your person_ , please.”

Kíli rolled his eyes.  “Yes, Fee.”

“It might help the two of us if you filled us in on why this Azkh is so dangerous to you two,” Riley suggested.

“He’s an orc,” Fíli said.  “They’re creatures bred specifically to do war and to destroy.”

“Bred?” Kaitlin repeated.  

“They’re…made,” Kíli chimed in, struggling to find the right words.  “By unnatural means.”

The two humans stared at the two dwarves.  “Okay, so…” Riley began.

“So one of them has escaped Arda and is working with Kor’s Albino,” Kaitlin finished.

“In what capacity?” Riley asked.

Fíli shrugged.

“You realize what this sounds like, right?” Kaitlin said to Fíli.  “It sounds like you are out to murder this person solely due to the fact that he is of a specific race.  You can understand why that would make Mr. Riley and myself uneasy… _right_?”

“Starfleet has not and _does not_ advocate genocide,” Riley said.  He looked more and more distraught. He did not look Fíli or Kíli in their faces.

“Gandalf suggested that we needed to do this,” Fíli protested.  “I fell into line of trusting him, that I…”

“Maybe we should tweak you guys’ mission objectives a bit,” Kaitlin said, gently.  “Let’s review the facts.  Azkh works with the Albino, a known criminal.  So at worst he’s a criminal or accomplice.  In what capacity, we don’t know.  He might be the mastermind, he might be the muscle…he might be a _filing clerk_ , for gods’ sake.  All we know is that he’s interested in you.  Guys, this might be an opportunity to build bridges instead of burning them.  Maybe he wants to talk to someone from his home planet.”

Fíli looked unconvinced.  “Your words are sensible, Commander Reid, but you don’t know these creatures like we do.”

“And I doubt that we were lured this vast distance so that he has someone to talk to,” Kíli added.

“Well here’s a harder line,” Riley said, now looking directly at Fíli.  “We’re not murdering anybody today.”  With that, he exited the cockpit.

Fíli stared ahead, while Kíli looked back as Riley left.  

“You hit a nerve,” he said to Fíli.

Fíli said nothing.  

Kaitlin cleared her throat.  “Kevin grew up on a colony where there was an actual genocide,” she said to them.  “There was a food shortage, and there were actual executions based on eugenics so the food would last.  His parents were killed.”

Fíli continued to look ahead.

Kíli frowned.  “That’s horrific.”

Kaitlin nodded.  “It was one of the worst atrocities of the last century.  You think…you think you’re past it, that humanity has truly evolved, and then you make us desperate, and you realize that the animals that we were are still _there_ , deep down.”

Fíli sighed.  “We shall _attempt_ to find a better way.”

Kaitlin genuflected.  “That’s all I ask,” she said.

 

Fíli turned and headed into the back compartment, where Kevin busied himself with his pack and Kor was doing some sort of calisthenics.  He held his blade, which he had previously called a _bat’leth_ , along the length of his arm as he moved slowly and methodically.

“What is that you’re doing” Fíli asked.  

“It is called the _mok’bara_ ,” Kor explained.  “The movements form the basis of our combat techniques, and it clears and clarifies the mind of a warrior.”

Fíli pursed his lips and nodded.  “Can you…?”

“It takes time to perfect the forms,” Kor said.  But let’s start with this.  Begin with a stance like this” —he put his legs apart and his arms akimbo, and then moved his arms out, his hands clawed, and rotated his torso to his left.  His bat’leth was still in his right hand.  Fíli did his best to imitate him, though he swung round a little fast. 

“No, slower and with more power,” Kor corrected him.  “This power comes from within each warrior, to be deliberate and with precise movement.  The Klingon heart beats strong and with heat, but for it to rage without control is unwise.”

“Eh?” Fíli said, still trying the motions.

“You have a deity?  A god you worship?” Kor asked.

“His name is Mahal,” Fíli replied.  “Though some worship a minor god named Pan.”

“We had gods once,” Kor explained.  “But our hearts beat so strongly that we overpowered them and destroyed them.”

Fíli continued to mimic Kor’s mok’bara movements for a moment.  Kor spoke up once more.

“There is no honor in wonton killing.  You must be sure in your heart that this Azkh is worthy of your blade.”

“You haven’t seen what I’ve seen of the orcs,” Fíli protested.  “The cost they’ve tolled on my people, and all of the peoples of Middle-earth!  They’re animals—“

“Animals, you say?  Well, similar things are said of Klingons,” Kor said.  “We care not of the unimportant opinions of weaker men, but our codes of honor and warriorship are often beyond their understanding.”

Fíli said nothing.

“But we _do_ have them,” Kor asserted.  “And perhaps, in his own fashion, Azkh does as well, being out of the influence of your world.  Your heart will tell you if that is so.”

Fíli looked at Kor, who smiled as he finished.

“We are not unlike, Klingons and Khazad, by my observation,” Kor said, putting his bat’leth down. 

“Planetfall in twenty minutes!” Kaitlin called from the cockpit.

“Ahh,” Kor said with relish.  “Now we see.”

 

The landing of Kor’s shuttle went without incident, and they put down roughly a kilometer away from the perimeter of the Albino’s compound. The area of the planet was subtropical, with green leafy plants covering the ground and a high canopy of tall trees above.  Birds and insects provided a droning backdrop.  Fíli, like Kíli, tied his mane back, and strode through the forest, looking back and forth.  Kaitlin held a tricorder which beeped in a low frequency.

“No sign of any large predatory animals,” she noted.  “So there’s that.”

“And no indigenous humanoid life either,” Riley added.  “This Albino guy chose his hideout pretty well.”

Kor had his bat’leth slung behind his back.  “We’ll need to look for perimeter sentries.  They’ll have some kind of personal transport we can take advantage of.”

“Like what?” Kaitlin asked.  Kor kept seeming to know more than he let on, and it irritated her.

“Hoverbikes, most likely,” Kor replied.

Riley’s eyebrows rose.  “Hmm,” he hummed to himself.  The idea of riding hoverbikes sounded fun.

“So we’re scanning for humanoid life, all the while heading toward the compound,” Kíli spoke up, “Just to be sure I understand.”

“We won’t have to travel far.  At some point we’re going to trip some defense.”

“Klingons aren’t that big on stealth, are they,” Riley muttered.

“Not so much, no,” Kaitlin replied.

Kor shrugged.  

 

Sure enough the first sign of perimeter sentries were not five minutes later.  While Riley and Kaitlin tinkered with their tricorders, Kíli beat Kor to action.  He leaped out of the brush, his twin blades flashing as the two brutish men, dressed in purple body armor with gold metal armor-like trim, shot their disruptors at him.  had a greenish light, and as he leaped to evade them, he felt the heat of the beams.  _Well_ , he thought.  _Best to avoid getting hit with_ that. All the while he struck out with his right blade, hitting the first sentry straight in the shoulder.  He writhed and cried in pain, but judging by the movement in his hand he hadn’t done too much lasting damage.  All the same, blood began to ooze from the tear in his armor.  The other sentry began to wheel on him and aimed his disruptor but before he could fire, a whistling sound filled the air and landed in his abdomen with a slightly wet _thunk_ sound.  Fíli turned back over his shoulder and saw Kíli with his bow, grinning as if he’d thrown a flying disc.  

When Kaitlin arrived on the scene with the others, she took out her phaser.

“Wounded still means conscious,” she muttered as she fired at both of the guards.

Kíli looked surprised, as if he wasn’t sure what she’d just done.  “The weapon has a stun setting,” Kaitlin explained.  “So I can knock them out without hacking them to pieces.”

Fíli looked down at the holster he’d been given and immediately regretted his actions.  “I’m wasting time,” he muttered to himself.  Then he looked up.  “What about these vehicles?” he asked.

Kíli had already mounted the one.  His shorter stature made it slightly more difficult to get to the controls but not impossible.  He looked over the steering bars and the hover controls and smiled.  “I think I can do this.”

Riley took the other one.  “These should get us to the compound in about fifteen minutes,” he told Kaitlin.  

“What about you, Kor?” She asked the Klingon.

Kor had his bat’leth in his hands.  “Don’t worry about me, Commander.  I know where the Albino is hiding.”

Kíli waited for Fíli to get on behind him as he revved the antigrav engines.  “Please don’t get us killed…again,” he said to Kíli as they strapped goggles onto their eyes.

“This…is gonna be…fun,” Kíli said with relish as the hoverbike leaped into action.

The bike skimmed over the tall grasses which also struck Fíli’s boots. The wind blew in his face, and his hair streamed behind him. He took note of the terrain.  They seemed to be in a valley which was covered in leafy vegetation; the forest was left behind.  Mostly green grasses and ivy with sparse trees.  The sky overhead was covered in green-tinted, low clouds and mist seemed cling to the roots of the tree-covered, worn down mountains all around.  But up ahead something seemed to be appearing.  

It didn’t look like a fortress or a keep, not in the way that Fíli understood it.  The walls were adobe and geometric patterns were built into the base and the top which connected to a flat, metal, corrugated roof.  Brick fence surrounded the building on three sides, and the front seemed to have a rather pleasant hanging garden.  

The most ominous thing about this stronghold was how inviting it looked.  

Riley and Kaitlin pulled up alongside Fíli and Kíli, and Kaitlin was already giving the house the once-over.  “There’s only one life form in there, guys,” she told the dwarves.  

“Oh, this is the trappiest of traps,” Riley said.

Fíli continued to look at the house, inviting and innocuous.  

“He’s waiting for us,” Kíli said.  

“You suggested that he wanted to talk to us,” Fíli said to Kaitlin.  “He’s gone to these lengths to get us here.”

Kaitlin said nothing, but looked at the house.  

“It’d be rude to keep him waiting,” Fíli said, and dismounted the bike.

“Fíli, wait!” Riley called as Fíli strode through the gates.  Kíli turned back once, and followed him in.

“I guess we keep guard out here,” Kaitlin sighed.

 

The doors opened on twin hinges.  The main hall was sparse but the hardwood floors shined and the walls were painted white.  No decorations on the walls except for brass sconces.  Fili and Kili wandered in, looking for signs of their host.  They walked down the length of the hall, noting that there were no other doors on either side, only large windows which let in the sun and showed off more of the hanging garden outside.  Only one door was visible on the other side.  It was wooden and paneled and had a brass handle for a knob. From within, they could hear the slight sound of a clock ticking.

Fili reached for the handle, tentatively.  He looked back at Kili, who nodded.  

He opened the door.

Inside he looked around.  The room was paneled in dark woods in a square pattern.  leather-upholstered chairs were placed in the back corners of the room, with shiny brass tacks around the edge of the backs.  Several bookcases surrounded the back of the room, filled with leather-bound volumes, and even dustier ones on the floor.  The desk that dominated the center of the room had even more books piled upon it, and a desk lamp illuminated a stack with white light, while more of the brass sconces illuminated the room on the edges.  The clock that they heard from outside was a cuckoo clock and as the hour struck, the mechanics of the clock sprang to life as the cuckoo called three times before jumping back into the clock.

“Pull up a chair.”

The person at the desk put down a pen with a quill.  He was dressed in a linen shirt with a satin vest.  The collar strained a bit to close around his neck, but was clasped with gold buttons.  He wore a burgundy cravat around his neck.  He wasn’t particularly imposing, bodily speaking; his shoulders were not so wide, his arms were not so muscular.  But his face did have the ashen complexion, the nose the leonine shape, and the jutting lower teeth that did mark him as an orc, and one which was related to Bolg at that.

“Please, sit down,” he spoke once more. His voice was smooth, not gravelly or coarse.  He seemed to be speaking English, without the aid of a translator.  Atop the bridge of his nose were bookish spectacles which had a chain.  he took them off and glanced at them, with warmth and courtesy.  Fili and Kili took the chairs in the back of the room and moved them toward the desk.  They uneasily sat down.

“Well, I don’t think anyone could have seen _this_ coming,” Azkh said at last.  “I think we all have a lot of things to talk about, don’t you?”


	7. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which a Change could do you good.

Azkh folded his hands and placed them on the desk.  He gestured to the service on the desk and asked, “Can I pour the two of you some tea?  Or perhaps some spirits?”

Kíli looked to Fíli, who looked unsure.  He didn’t look so much at Azkh, or the tea service, so much as at the strange orc man’s appearance.  His refined outfit; his spectacles hanging off his nose.  He’d expected something so much different that what he saw just didn’t seem to compute.  

“Wandering the woods out there can take a bit out of you,” Azkh said, pouring tea into fine china cups.  “What would you like to sweeten your tea with?  I prefer the agave myself, but perhaps you’re more traditional.”

“What…are you?” Kíli eventually asked.  It was an awkward question, but nothing about Azkh made sense to them.

“Bolg was my progenitor,” Azkh said.  “Orc-kind reproduce in its own unique way; I can say no more.  But regardless, I came from him.”

“How did you come to _be_ out here?” Kíli continued to ask.  Fíli remained dumbstruck.

“You know, I’m not entirely sure,” Azkh replied.  “If I had to guess, I’d say that perhaps one of those old men took me away from the brood-places.  A lot of what I remember of orc-kind is…I’d call it instinctual.  What some would label ‘genetic memory’ that was passed down from generation to generation.”

Kíli looked a little lost.  Fíli finally spoke up.  “Why did you summon us?”

“Arda’s a closed world,” Azkh replied.  “Lots of it has advanced technology, but a good chunk is still pre-industrial and therefore under the protection of the Federation’s so-called Prime Directive.  Unless I smuggle myself there, I’m not permitted to return home.” At the reaction of the dwarves he added, “Surely the two of you knew that?”

“I…suspected,” Fíli replied.  “It would not stop me, however, to return.”

Azkh smiled toothily.  His teeth were white and straightened. It was still a predator’s smile and make Fíli uncomfortable.  “That’s a good answer.  One worthy of your kind.”

“Have you been off-world your whole life?” Kíli asked.  “Were you taken as an infant?” 

Azkh nodded.  “I was raised at first by Klingons,” he explained.  “But when I began to grow at a rate they were not prepared for, I was turned out.  From there, I worked to get an education and to get my hands on all the knowledge I could.  I had a head for numbers and soon I was running books for one trading company or other.  My associate the Albino had a need for someone off the grid to do his books, and we’ve benefited marvelously.”

“You’re an…” Fíli squinted. “You’re an accountant?” 

“By trade, yes.” Azkh replied.  “But of course, my interests go _far_ beyond that.”

 

He put a stack of books aside on the floor and took out a rolled up sheet of paper.  He unfurled it, revealing a map of Middle-earth.  “Our homeland,” he said.

“Okay?” Kíli said.

“Here are the places where Orc-kind tend to originate,” Azkh said, indicating the Misty Mountains and Mordor.  

“Not of themselves,” Fíli pointed out.  “It’s believed your kind were created by the Enemy.”

“Yes,” Azkh said, quietly.  “A variant, a mutation, a subspecies, if you will.  I’ve been to doctors, to people who study such things.  They say I have several genetic matches with several species in the Quadrant.  The strain which includes Romulans and Remans, as a matter of fact.”

“We’re still learning all the names,” Kíli said.

Azkh nodded.  “Indeed.  At any rate, my search for…myself led to some interesting parallels.  The tales say that Orc-kind was derived from experiments on captured Elves.  The doctors told me that they believed that at the genetic level certain genes were switched on that were left dormant.  Remnants of evolutionary paths that never were.  Whoever created my species quite literally hacked the genetic code of the elves to do so.”

Fíli nodded.  

“Much like the Remans, whose visage I somewhat resemble.  Forgive my being long-winded, but this topic _fascinates_ me.” Azkh sighed and began again.  “The point is, I have a vested interest of wresting agency of Orc-kind back from those who created us.  I feel we deserve better than slavery and degradation.”

Fíli frowned.  This conversation was going sideways from anything he expected.  “I sympathize, but what does this have to do with _us_?”

“Very few have left the confines of Arda since the fall of Númenor,” Azkh explained.  “I count one elf, one orc, and _three_ dwarves.”

“What of—?” Kíli began to ask as Azkh began to chuckle.

“The Istari are not of our world; they don’t count,” He said.

“What do you want?” Fíli asked.

“I want to relocate them.  Take them away from that world that has maligned them,” Azkh said.

Kíli’s eyes fluttered for a moment, trying to understand.  “You want to move all the orcs from Arda…to…?” 

“To another planet.  There’s so many inhabitable worlds right here in the Neutral Zone, where nobody would bother them.  They’d be free to live and evolve naturally, without any interference from…from anyone.  From Sauron, from the Klingons or Federation…they’d be free.”

Fíli considered the merits.  Taking the orcs from Middle-earth would bring relief to the peoples that they were terrorizing through their barbarism in the land.  And, as Azkh said, they’d be free to roam their own lands without harming none but themselves, taking their own paths independent of the fell influence of Mordor.  Then again, he’d be planting a seed whose fruit would grow in ways he could not predict.  From what he gleamed from studying Earth history was that humble beginnings could grow to terrible heights, and a hundred, a thousand years from now, he could be planting the seeds of something wondrous, or something terrible.  

 _To be a ruler of others_ , His uncle had told him, _was to take on the yoke of great responsibility.  Not just of their present needs, but that of their children and their children’s children.  You look beyond the horizon to the future to see how your kingdom is planned out for your heirs and theirs after.  This is the scope of a ruler’s vision_.

“I can’t,” Fíli said, at last.

Azkh looked on.  “No?” 

“I don’t feel I can take on the responsibility for the seeds of a new race of creatures not my own,” Fíli said.  “These are _your_ people, Azkh.  The responsibility should be yours and yours alone.  I understand your sentiments and I appreciate them, but your vision is singular.  You should see it through with your own efforts.  Besides, you are much more knowledgable about the galaxy than I or my brother.  We would be no help to you.  Not now.”

Azkh chuckled.  “For two peoples so different, it would seem you and Elf-kind have much in common.  The Elf said much the same thing.”

“Which elf?” Kíli asked.

“The one who travels through all the worlds freely.  The one named Glorfindel.”

“I’m sorry,” Fíli offered.

“You are, by far, the nicest orc we’ve ever met,” Kíli added.  

Azkh nodded.  “I have realized that my being brought out here has changed me.  I cannot go back among the orcs in Middle-earth.  I cannot attempt to ‘civilize’ them.  To change is an evolutionary process and must occur naturally.  They must make their own progress and make their own mistakes.  But it must be _their_ choices to make.  As long as the Dark Lord is there, they are incomplete.  They must make their own changes.  You see, once you are changed, you cannot go back to how you used to be.”  He put his spectacles back on and peered at Fíli.  “You know that to be true, don’t you?”

Fíli looked stricken.  “Pardon?”

Azkh chuckled.  “You set out to kill me.  Didn’t you?”

Fíli and Kíli said nothing, but Kíli looked downward and nodded.

“But you could not.  You had the initial belief that orc-kind was bestial and irredeemable and worthy of being killed on sight and yet, you did not raise even a weapon to me in this room.  What would your kinsmen have thought back under your mountain if they knew this?”

Kíli scoffed.  “They would have thought us mad.”

“And rightly so,” Fíli added.  “But back to you.  The orcs don’t seem to be going anywhere.  They’re being bred, as you’ve said, within the influence of the dark places.  Why then your haste?”

“Because,” Azkh replied.  “I don’t know how much longer I have.”

Fíli and Kíli looked concerned.  “Are you not well?” Kíli asked.

“No, no, you misunderstand,” Azkh replied, waving Kíli’s concern off.  “I mean I literally don’t know how long my lifespan is.  I grew from infancy to adulthood in a fraction of the time a normal humanoid does.  Presumably that was a trait we were given to be more useful more quickly.  But that also means that we were designed for use in the short-term.  We weren’t made to grow old.”

The last sentence hung in the air.  

“Why did you seek out our help?” Fíli asked.  “You have a lucrative business with the Albino—why not use his resources?”

“The Albino,” Azkh scoffed.  “While it’s true, I’ve enjoyed some prosperity with my association with him, he lacks…vision.  His upbringing has led him to reject his people, and has no interest outside of his own bottom line.  He also has more than a little bit of treachery to him.  You see, I work for him, but in no way do I trust him.”

“Yet you sought to trust us,” Fíli retorted.  “We who came to kill you.”

“I know,” Azkh said, quietly.  

Fíli looked to Kíli.  “Go let Commanders Riley and Reid know we’re all right.”

“A-all right,” Kíli said.  He got up and exited the room.

Azkh got up and circled the desk.  Fíli noticed that he did not crouch, did not hunker as an orc from home would do.  He stood upright to a height that was slightly taller than himself.  

“I suppose I’m lonely,” Azkh said.  “And I supposed that you were as well.  The two of you by yourself on Earth—has it been difficult?”

“Kee’s been taking it better,” Fíli admitted.  “He is planning to join Starfleet in autumn.”

“But not you,” Azkh sat down in Kíli’s vacant chair.

“No.” Fíli’s voice seemed very small.  “My kin was killed by…by your brother.”

“Azog,” Azkh said.  “This must be very difficult for you.”

“I’ve been on the Earth, trying not to think about how he’s gone.  We’re so far away from home, that it’s easy to forget out of hand that he’s not back home…waiting for us,” Fíli said, and tears began to spring from his eyes.  “And it feels like a betrayal—a betrayal of his memory that I _don’t_ feel terrible every hour of every day, so that when I’m reminded…like now…it comes crashing back and no matter what those human counselors say, I feel like I’ve killed him _all over again_ …”

And before Fíli knew it, he was sobbing in the chair in Azkh’s office.  He felt an arm beckon him to lean toward Azkh, and in the back of his mind, he realized as he released his grief the absurdity of an orc offering him comfort.  The kin of the orc who killed his uncle, no less.  

“I’m so sorry,” Azkh said at last.  “It was never my intent to cause you grief.”

Fíli sniffled and nodded.  “It’s difficult…but it’s getting better.”

Azkh took a hand and gently placed it on Fíli’s cheek, wiping the tears off his face.  “There.  We don’t have to remain lonely, Fíli.  Not if you don’t want to.”  Before Fíli realized what was happening, Azkh gently kissed Fíli’s cheek.  Fíli, to his credit, did not startle, but stiffened enough that Azkh retreated, and patted Fíli on the knee.  “Oh my.  I hope I didn’t embarrass myself.”

“I-i’ts fine.  Do we have further business?” He asked.  He got up and wiped his cheek, looking down at Azkh.

“No, I think that’s all we have to say.  If you change your mind—about any of it—I’m right here.”

“Just running numbers in the wood?” Fíli said, chuckling.  

Azkh shrugged.  “What can I say, I’m a homebody.”  He added,  “Fíli, can I offer you some free advice?”

Fíli put a hand on the handle of the door.  “What is it?”

Azkh folded his arms.  “Like I said, you have been changed by your experiences out here.  I would ask you to not fear it.  Be the person you that you will become.  Don’t be constrained by the person you were in Middle-earth.  He died, so that you may live.  Does that make sense?”

Fíli tucked a braid of hair behind his ear.  “Thank you.”

 

 

It turned out the only thing suspicious about Fíli and Kíli’s mission was Kor’s involvement.  He returned to the shuttle muttering about  “False sensor traces” and “vowing vengeance” but otherwise was in jolly spirits as the four were beamed back up.  Riley and Kaitlin continued to playfully spar as the shuttle made its way to the rendezvous point and Kíli continued to receive a crash course in shuttle piloting.  Fíli kept to himself.  

He continued to wonder if he had changed.  The Fíli that hadn’t died would have murdered Azkh on sight.  Would have murdered him if he had dared to put his hands on him.  He was an _orc_ , for Mahal’s sake.  It _mattered_.  

But all he knew was that Azkh was a gentle, lonely soul that was out here, just as he and his brother was.  Reaching out for companionship.

_Once you are changed, you can’t go back to the way you used to be._

The _USS Hanson_ was at the rendezvous point, right on schedule.  Kaitlin was in fine spirits when she opened the comm.  “This is the Shuttle _Nev’daQ_ , Hanson.  Do you read?”

A voice familiar to her made her grin widely.  “This is Captain Rott Ag’ta of the Federation _Starship Hanson_.  Commander Reid, how did you get roped into this crazy mission?”

She looked at Riley.  “Well, Captain, you know how fun it is to do favors for the Admiral.”

Rott’s voice chuckled.  “I do indeed.  Please stand by for pickup.”

Kor looked on as the Starfleet officers picked up their gear.  “It was an interesting adventure,” Kor said to them.  “I don’t know why Starfleet is so hesitant to trust their Klingon neighbors, but I suppose that’s on you.”

“Well, if all Klingons were as genteel as you, Kor, maybe we wouldn’t have such trust issues,” Kaitlin said.  “Good hunting.”

“I will have that _patak_ Albino at the edge of my blade, make no mistake,” Kor promised.  “If the opportunity arises, my little friends, will you help me?”

“Perhaps,” Kíli said, mischief in his eyes, “If I get to drive.”

Kor roared with laughter.  “Deal!  What of you, my prince?”

Fíli looked thoughtfully.  “We have no quarrel with Azkh now.  Perhaps we can persuade him to change employers.”

Kíli grinned mischievously.  “Come on, Kor.  Bring it in.”

The Klingon took a knee as Kíli struck his forehead to Kor’s considerable forehead.  “It was an honor traveling with you Kor, of the House of Kor.  May your beard never grow thin.”

“Ah, and may your beard eventually grow in,” Kor replied, and the two both burst into raucous laughter.  He then turned to Fíli and their foreheads struck.  “You are still the head of your House,” he told Fíli.  “In your heart it is still so.  The Orc spoke true.  Be what you are meant to be.  Be a Son of Durin.”

Fíli nodded and smiled slightly.  

“Hanson,” Kaitlin said.  “We’re ready to beam over.”

“ _What_?  Kíli exclaimed.  “ _Yes!!_ ”

 

 

On the Hanson, Kaitlin and Riley met with Captain Ag’ta, her old friend.  

“Do you miss the old days?” the Cainian asked Kaitlin.

“Sometimes,” she replied.  “We were ridiculous.”

Rott nodded.  “The strangest adventures.”

“There was this one time on the _Medea_ that Maurice’s powers went crazy and somehow me and Rott switched bodies,” Kaitlin said to Riley.  “And then there was the time that the ship was being turned into _plants_ —“

 

 

The guest quarters of the Hanson were not quite as accommodating as on the Enterprise, but Fíli and Kíli were grateful for the comforts that were provided after their time on Kor’s shuttle.  The two rested quietly on their beds.  

“Kee?” Fíli asked.

“Hmm?” Kíli replied.

“Have I changed?” 

Kíli thought for a moment.  “Yes.  But not in the ways that concern me.  You are still my _Khazâsh_ , you still are overprotective, but…we sat and listened to Azkh.  He was a person and we left him in peace.  I don’t think we would have done that, knowing who he was…before.”  He thought for a moment.  “Have _I_ changed, Fee?”

“Are you still enrolling in the Academy?”

“Yes,” Fíli said with certainty.

“Then no.  You’re still your usual stubborn self,” Fíli said, chuckling to himself.  “No, but…I didn’t know you could do what I saw you do in the last few days.  You surprised me.”

“I surprised myself,” Kíli admitted.  “I…I want to see how far these changes go.”

Fíli nodded.  

“And…” Kíli added.  “I want to see what _you_ become as well, _Khazâsh_.”

Fíli nodded again.  “Okay.”

“Okay?” Kíli asked rhetorically.

“Okay!” Fíli exclaimed, and the two laughed.  

There was a chime at the door.

“I’m up!” Kíli said, jumping off the bed.  He padded in his stocking feet to the door to open it.  

It was someone tall.  

He wore the uniform of a Starfleet Admiral, with the starburst pin on his jacket and an extra silver braiding on the trim.  

“I trust the two of you are doing well,” The Admiral said as he strolled in.  “I apologize for not checking in with you sooner—and of course, you have my deepest condolences.”

“ _Now_ you show up,” Fíli growled.  

“I have responsibilities,” Gandalf explained.  “No one in Starfleet has any concerns about Arda, and I alone have their interests on the galactic stage.”

“Why are you here now?” Kíli asked.  “You said you’d be on Earth by Christmas.”

“And I will, Kíli,” Gandalf replied.  “We’re still only five light-years from Arda, you see.”

“That’s not far?” Fíli asked.

“Not particularly,” Gandalf replied.  “Captain Ag’ta was taking me to Earth now as a matter of fact, but we could still swing back…”

“Swing back?” Kíli repeated.

“The acoustics in this room must be dreadful,” Gandalf remarked.  

“Gandalf!” Fíli exclaimed.  “Shoot straight, for once!”

“What wonderful new expressions you’ve learned!” Gandalf muttered.  “All right.  Do you want to go back home?”

Kíli blinked.  “You mean _now_?” he asked.

“I _precisely_ mean now,” Gandalf replied.  “You two can’t be just crossing the Neutral Zone at a whim, you know.”

Fíli frowned.  “We can’t, Gandalf.”

“Oh?  And why is that?”

“Because,” Fíli said, smiling at Kíli.  “We’re going to be enrolling in Starfleet Academy.”

“The both of you?” Gandalf exclaimed.  “That’s extraordinary!  Doctor Chapel didn’t think you would, Fíli.”

“Well,” Fíli said, chuckling.  “Once you’ve been changed, like we have been, we can’t go back.”

“Well said,” Gandalf said, nodding.  “What became of the Orc?”

“Azkh?” Fíli answered.  “He’s fine, in his house, and his books.”

“He’s a rather nice chap,” Kíli added.  “Aside from working for a criminal warlord, that is.”

“But that’s not worth _killing_ someone for,” Fíli replied, and the two smiled at each other smugly.  

Gandalf rolled his eyes.  “Yes, yes, you’ve both changed.  Nice and evolved beings, the both of you.  Now you realize that when you enter into Starfleet, I will be your proper superior.  This isn’t some honorary title; I’m an actual Starfleet Admiral.”

“Okay?” Kíli replied.

“We’ve been hearing about your Starfleet job for months,” Fíli reminded Gandalf.  “And Kor’s gone on how you carry on with the Klingons as well.”

“Kor tends to exaggerate,” Gandalf demurred.  

“ _And_ the Reids,” Fíli added.  “Kaitlin said you’ve had dealings with her family for at least a century.”

“Just some nudging, to get the Cain-Thunderan conflict sussed out.”

“And before?”  Kíli suddenly brightened.  “Who’s Criss Damon?”

“We’ll be at Arda before _that_ tale is told,” Gandalf sighed.  “Well, what’s it going to be?  Home or Starfleet?”

“It’s my understanding that Balin is expecting us to at least attend some kind of school on Earth,” Fíli said to Gandalf.  “So who are we to argue with him?  He does seem to know best, doesn’t he?”

“Well, as long as he stays away from Moria, yes,” Gandalf grumbled.  “All right, I’ll order Captain Ag’ta to return us to Earth.  We’ll start the process where we sponsor you into the Academy, and may Mahal have mercy upon your souls, my good dwarves.”

 

Fíli and Kíli arrived back at the Starfleet Medical campus, with several messages on their terminal, mostly from Dr. McCoy and Commander Uhura, giving their regrets that the tour of the _Enterprise_ was cut so short on account of Adventure.  Commander Uhura promised that once she was back, the English lessons would continue.  Kíli remarked that perhaps they should expand their repertoire of languages to include Klingon.  

“It does sound a bit like Khuzdul in spots,” he pointed out to Fíli.

Dr. Chapel arrived shortly after they settled in, offering tea and hugs.  “So glad you fellas are safe,” she said.  “And this might be the last time we get to meet like this.  You see…Starfleet Medical has decided to evict you.”

Fíli and Kíli stared at her, dumbstruck, for a moment.

“We have to move out?” Kíli exclaimed.

“No, no, you _get_ to move out,” Christine explained.  “With the two of you moving about on your own and your impending application to Starfleet Academy, it seemed to be a slight conflict of interest to board you two here.  Fortunately for you, though, I have your next place lined up.”

The doors opened, almost on cue, and Tamryn and Eldon walked in.

“Hey, guys!” Tamryn exclaimed as she proceeded to pick Kíli up and hug him tightly.

“Gah!  Down!  Down!” Kíli squeaked.

“Um, while you two were gone, Dr. Chapel discussed the situation with us.  We’ve got your room in my apartment all set up,” Tamryn explained as she put Kíli down.  

Fíli turned to Eldon.  “You’d do this for us?” he asked his friend.

Eldon smiled.  “Of course.  I mean, until you two are boarding on the Academy campus, and then we’re selling your things.”

“Ha!” Kíli brayed.  “The joke’s on you!  We don’t own anything!”

“Yes,” Fíli sighed.  “We’re terrible dwarves right now.  Rather upstanding Federation citizens, but lousy dwarves.”

 

That turned out to be not quite accurate, as the two had accumulated a number of things, mostly in the way of clothes, that was packed up and sent to Tamryn’s apartment.  

 

Tamryn was helping Kíli unpack in her apartment in Oakland as she began to take shirts to put into their dresser.  “Gatsby’s going to be visiting in September,” She told Kíli.  

“That’s your brother, right?” he asked.

“Uh-huh, and he’s really happy that you’ve gotten some use out of these old clothes.”

Kíli was wearing one of the old T-shirts as they were working, with some old pop-culture reference lost to time.  

“I mean, that shirt’s almost three hundred years old,” Tamryn pointed out.  Kíli looked down at the cartoon figure and smiled.  

A beat passed between them,  before Tamryn asked, “Are you excited for the fall?”

Kíli nodded vigorously.  “We take the preliminaries in two weeks.  Although I get the feeling I may have to enlist first and get an officer’s commission later.  I’m not entirely sure how that works.”

“You’ll figure it out.  You know, you’re lucky.  Kids on the outlying outposts and colonies have to compete to get accepted.  And then there’s the psych test.”

Kíli gulped.  “That sounds daunting.”

Tamryn rolled her eyes and smiled.  “Kee, you _died_ , remember?  Got that big scar on your side?  I think a psychological evaluation’ll be a cakewalk compared to—“

 

The doorbell rang.

 

“That’s funny,” Tamryn muttered.  “Eldon and Fíli were supposed to be in the Haight all day.”  She walked to the door, and turned the knob (Kíli had noted when he’d arrived that it was a blessed thing to see a door on hinges).  

 

What happened next happened so fast that Kíli didn’t react at first.  Tamryn was shoved roughly back, landing squarely on her rump.  “OW!” she cried out.  “What the f—“

“SHUT UP!” a raspy voice growled out.  “You!  Midget!”

“Leave her alone!” Kíli cried when he found his voice again.  He rushed toward the strange humanoid, who loomed over the doorway.  He wasn’t human; his face was a mottled mix of mango and peach tones.  His eyes were tawny, the pupils constricted.  He was wearing a purple jacket with metallic gold at the ends.  

Before he could make contact with his fists, the stranger pulled out a gun and fired it at Tamryn.  She was knocked out cold.

“ _TAMRYN_!” Kíli cried.

“You’re the one that chopped Durgen’s shoulder, aren’tcha?” the stranger growled.  

“Just leave her out of this,” Kíli said, putting up his hands.  “And maybe that gun can go down—“

“Durgen had to have his arm amputated!” the stranger exclaimed.  “They didn’t get to him in time before the infection set in!  You did it!  You maimed my brother!”

In truth, it was Fíli who had laid into the guard with his blades; Kíli had incapacitated the other with an arrow.  But this fellow was too set on revenge to care who had hurt his brother.  

“I’m sorry about your brother,” Kíli said, inching toward the supine Tamryn who was still unconscious.  “But if you’re going to kill me, kill me.  Leave her be, and leave my brother be.  He’s got naught to do with this, if you’re set on killing.”

“Did you hurt my brother?” he demanded once more.

Kíli looked him straight in the eye.  “Yes.  I did it.  I take responsibility.”

He pointed the disruptor right between Kíli’s eyes and pressed on the trigger

However, he never got the chance to fire.  

A finger tapped on the stranger’s shoulder.  He turned around before getting grabbed by bare muscular arms.  He was taken off his feet and was suplexed to the ground, shaking everything with a THUMP.  Kíli saw the figure in what appeared to be a purple singlet and thick solid gold boots grapple with the intruder.  From what Kíli remembered from wrestling with Dwalin and his brother, the intruder was in what appeared to be a sleeper hold.  As the wrestler continued to subdue the intruder, his eyes rolled back in his head.  Eventually, he stopped struggling and was still.  “Inked, jabbed, and jacked,” The wrestler muttered as he took the disruptor from the intruder and stood up.

“Here,” his voice was deep, but sounded strange.  As if it wasn’t really coming from the tall imposing figure before Kíli.  His eyes seemed to be kohl-lined, and He could see a tattoo of flames going up his right arm.  Kíli took the disruptor and tossed it away.  

“Are you all right?  Did he hurt you?” the wrestler asked.  

“N-no,” Kíli replied, and began to shudder, as if his body had suddenly remembered to react to what had just happened.

“It’s all right, buddy,” the wrestler said, smiling reassuringly.  “I’m glad I could help you out.”

“Who are you?” Kíli demanded, eyeing the intruder.  “Are you Tamryn’s neighbor?” 

“You could say that,” he replied, chuckling.  “Name’s Criss.  Criss Damon.”

Kíli’s eyes became wide as saucers as Criss Damon turned back into the hallway.  “Tamryn knows the score.  Don’t hold it against her, though.  It’s a family secret.”  And as Tamryn began to stir, Criss Damon’s figure seemed to waver, like a mirage.  “Don’t get in the habit of putting my girl in _too_ much danger, though.”  And as Tamryn put a hand to her head, Kíli turned back to where the wrestler had been.  

He was gone.

He blinked once, then reacted to Tamryn.  “Are you okay?” he asked her. 

“Feel like I lost a game of Parisses Squares,” she croaked as she shook her head.  “Omigod, Kíli, we gotta get the police—!”

As she moved to her comm terminal, a Starfleet Security guard rushed past the threshold of her apartment.

“Sir!  Ma’am!  Are you all right?” she asked before seeing the prone figure of the intruder.  “Oh thank God.  We detected the unauthorized disruptor signature and we beamed over as soon as we could. Who knocked him out?”

Kíli looked at Tamryn, and back at the guard.  “That’s…a good question.”

Tamryn had a look of sudden realization.  “We…double teamed him,” she told the guard, who nodded.  “Nice tag team work, guys.  We’re so sorry we didn’t get him before he caused you trouble.”

With that, the intruder was hauled away, leaving Tamryn and Kíli shaken.  

“Criss Damon!” Kíli finally exclaimed.  

Tamryn looked suddenly sheepish.  “…Yeah,” she muttered, scratching the back of her neck, not quite looking at Kíli.

Kíli stared at her as she moved to the kitchen and poured a glass of water.  “Well?”

“I didn’t realize it myself until we went to the Reid Complex,” Tamryn explained.  Commander Reid and I started corresponding and she realized that my mom’s maiden name sounded familiar.  She checked the records and she found out that my family came out of the Complex in the early Twenty-second Century.  It also turns out that we inherited…well, we inherited Criss Damon.”

Kíli’s expression blanked.  “What.”

“Commander Reid referred me to the Starfleet Academy Genetic Research facility over in Westchester,” Tamryn continued.  They found out that I have a bit of an ability.  It’s passed down in our family, and so is Criss Damon?”

“ _Who is he_?” Kíli asked, exasperated.  

“He’s…” Tamryn struggled to explain.  “He’s kind of a…manifestation of my subconscious.”

“You create him with your mind?” Kíli asked.

“Yes.  I have to be unconscious for him to manifest.  It’s sort of me, but…not.  It’s like a dissociation, but given form.”

Kíli’s mind swam.  “So, he’s been in your family all this time.  And the reason everyone spoke of him in the Complex but…?”

“He doesn’t photograph,” Tamryn explained.  “Apparently.  He’s psychic energy, it’s a whole thing.”

“And he was the protector of the Complex as an…avatar of someone who lived there?  Your ancestor?”

Tamryn nodded.  “And through the years, while he wasn’t quite as needed, he came out every now and then, like he did just now.”

“But why is it the same fellow?” Kíli asked.”

“No one can say,” Tamryn replied.  “I _like_ that it’s kind of mysterious.”

“Can your brother Gatsby summon him?” Kíli asked.

“You know, I don’t know,” Tamryn said.  “Wouldn’t it be unreal if we both fell asleep and two Crisses appeared?”

Kíli mimicked his brain exploding, a gesture he learned from Tamryn, and they both laughed.

 

When Eldon and Fíli arrived, they were both distraught at being altered at the home invasion.  Starfleet Security had little answers as to how the intruder, identified as a Norgin Durr from Zaya III, a planet within the Neutral Zone.  

Eldon held an amused Tamryn tightly as she attempted to calm him down.  Fíli paced and paced, while Kíli held his hands up as well.

“It’s all over, baby,” Tamryn said.  “I didn’t even get a bruise when I landed on my ass, so…let’s take a deep breath…”

“Yes, please, Fee,” Kíli said.  “We’re fine.

“This is supposed to be the safest world in the Federation!” Fíli fumed.  “And yet this was allowed to happen!”

 

At the door, there was a knock.

 

Eldon, still overprotective of his fiancée, went to the door and flung it open. When he saw who it was he immediately stood to attention.

“Sir!” he exclaimed.  

It was the Admiral.

“I hear there was a bit of commotion here this afternoon,” Gandalf drawled as he entered the apartment.  

“Yeah, a little bit,” Kíli replied.

Gandalf’s mouth twisted into a knowing smile.  “Young lady, I was impressed,” he said to Tamryn.  “I don’t believe Mr. Damon has manifested in seventy-five years.”

Tamryn flushed and looked away.

“It didn’t change the results, however,” Gandalf said.

“I don’t understand,” Fíli said.

“Your brother’s been accepted,” Gandalf replied.  “With a little bit of tutoring in subspace theory and a little more seasoning, I think we can make a decent engineer out of him.”

Kíli’s face brightened like the sun.  “What?  Was that…was that the…?”

“That was the psych test,” Gandalf confirmed.  “From the psychological write-ups that Dr. McCoy and Dr. Chapel have done during your stay at Medical, we were able to create a situation that would test your resolve.  You passed.”

Fíli sighed, but then tensed again.  “But Gandalf…what about me?”

“Well, I’d get lots of notebooks, my little friend.  “All the medical terminology you’re going to be learning in the first four years is a bit daunting.”

 

By the end of the day, Fíli and Kíli were moved in.  The four of them spent the evening with mulled wine and some music.  The humans turned in early.  Kíli did as well.  

In the dead of night, Kíli found himself awake and looked over to Fíli’s bunk.

It was empty.  

Kíli frowned and turned over.

 

The next day, Kíli had slept until 9 in the morning.  Just lounging in his new bed, looking at the bare walls of his new room.  The suite at Medical was decorated tastefully with some glass objets’-d’art and vases with flowers that were replaced every now again by staffers.  

Here were just four blank walls.

Just like his life on Earth now, it was up to him to put something up that showed that he was there.  

He finally swung his legs over the bed and got up.  Shuffling to the bathroom, he noticed a strange quiet mood the apartment had—especially compared to yesterday.  He wandered into the bathroom and saw Fíli there, with a towel around him, and a towel around his shoulders.

Except.

 

He didn’t quite _identify_ him as Fíli.  Something was off.  Something was…missing.

“It’s rude to stare,” Fíli sighed.  

“You—“

“Now, Kee,” Fíli started

“You!” Kíli spluttered.

“You’re overreacting—“ 

 

“ ** _YOU SHAVED YOUR BEARD?!_** ” Kíli hollered.  

 

“Okay, fine.  Get it out of your system,” Fíli sighed.

“AND CUT YOUR HAIR!” Kíli continued.  He wheeled around his older brother and glared at the nape of his neck that had previously been covered by his mane.  “What else have you done?  Drop the towel—“

“Now, Kee,” Fíli’s eyes fluttered as he attempted to explain.  “It’s just another change.  Things don’t mean the same here as they do back home.  They cut their hair and shave their face and it means as nothing to them.”

“You’re not one of them!” Kíli exclaimed. “You’re still of Dwarrow-kind and our beard and hair are representative of—“

“You said you wanted to see me change,” Fíli protested.  “Why are you so upset?”

Kíli struggled to explain.  “I—I don’t know!”

“Besides, we were going to have to shear down anyway in Starfleet—at least at first.  Did you think you weren’t going to conform to their codes when you enrolled?”

Kíli deflated.  He _had_ thought of that, but preferred to keep that notion at bay.

“I’m still your _Khazâsh_ ,” Fíli said, putting his hands on Kíli’s arms.  “I’m still me.  And, you know?  All that hair gone, feels like I’ve lifted a weight from my shoulders heavier than hair would explain.”

“It also makes your ears look huge,” Kíli noted, and began to cackle.

“It does not—“ Fíli protested.

“And it makes your Durin nose look mountainous!” Kíli added.

“You’re a brat,” Fíli sighed.  Tamryn had said as much herself.

Kíli looked into the mirror himself, and pulled his hair back.  “Well, it wasn’t as if the beard was coming in fast enough anyway,” he sighed.  “But you just got me braided, and that will be a shame.”

“We’ll save them,” Fíli said, nodding.  “To remind you.”

“All right,” Kíli sighed, taking his t-shirt off.  “Shear me like a sheep for the Star Fleet!”

 

 

 

 

***

 

 

Thousands of miles away, at the Vulcan consulate on Manhattan Island, a transport dropped off its passenger.  Tall, willowy, wearing green robes, she strode toward the entrance and was admitted.  The gravity in the Vulcan office was adjusted for the comfort for natives of that planet, and the environment was also warmer and more arid than would be expected in September on the East Coast.  

This was no matter for her, however.  She walked up to the consul’s office and showed her identification to the attendant outside.  He nodded once and the door opened.  

The consul looked up from her work at a desk.  She wore her steel-gray hair in a typical short Vulcan fashion, with severe bangs.  Her face was unadorned yet there was a handsomeness to it, even for a Vulcan of her advanced age.  

“I see you’ve arrived safely,” she told the younger-looking woman.

“Yes,” she replied.  “There was no incident.”

“Good.”  The consul  put her work aside.  “We can get started on your new identity as a Vulcan as soon as you wish.”

The woman nodded.  “Madam Consul—“ she began.

“You may address me as T’Pol,” the consul replied.  “Have you decided on your Vulcan name?”

 

“Yes,” she replied.  “Henceforth, I shall be known as T’Rel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the hits, Kudos and comments. I hope to get the next part of this series up soon.


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